Trading Spaces
by Elfgoddess00
Summary: Never judge a man until you've walked a mile in his shoes literally. Weiss Kreuz and Saiyuki Crossover, as promised. Uped the rating because of language...
1. Go to the Flower Shop

_**Trading Spaces**_

_**Chapter 1 : Go to the Flower Shop and Kitty in the West**_

"Aaaahhh...Sanzo! I'm starving! When're we gonna get there?"

"Give it a rest monkey! We've only been on the road for two hours. And you just ate 45 minutes ago!"

"Don't call me a monkey you stupid perverted kappa! And maybe I wouldn't _be_ so hungry if you didn't eat my last two meat buns!"

"You damn brat, I didn't see _your _name written on 'em!"

"They were in _my_ bag you stupid roach!"

"Who the hell're you callin' _roach_ you filthy monkey?"

"At least I'm not a pervert you perverted kappa!"

"You wanna put your fists where your mouth is you damn ape?"

"Bring it you pink-haired roach!"

"It's _red_! RED! You goddamn little shit!"

"Sure it is, you–"

_BANG BANG!_

"If the two of you don't sit down and shut the hell up you're _both _gonna be a nice, _blood_ red."

"My, my, what wonderful weather we're having..."

Gojyo and Goku sank down into their respective seats warily as Sanzo slowly and meaningfully lowered his gun and placed it back within his sleeve. Silence reigned, although for how long could be anyone's guess. Sanzo knew it was only a matter of time before the two idiots in the back found something else to fight over, and he was wondering, as he massaged the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ward off an oncoming headache, if the three aspects would be _too _terribly angry if just killed the both of them now and left their bodies behind for the crows to feast on. The thought was very tempting indeed, no matter _what_ his mission was.

A sharp pain lanced through his skull, beginning at the occipital base and raking around to his temples and then his forehead, and Sanzo grunted, falling forward a bit against the sensation. It felt like something was trying to pry him apart and slip inside. For lack of a better description, it felt almost like some sort of entity was trying to force it's way into his brain. The blond man silently contemplated what was left of his sanity, trying to calculate how much further his decent into madness had been taken thanks to the stupidity he was forced to endure day by day.

"Sanzo. Are you feeling alright? You aren't getting sick again, are you?" Hakkai asked softly from beside him. Sanzo grunted, not bothering to look-up.

"I'll be fine if those two idiots in the back lay off." he growled.

"Naa, Sanzo. You're sick?" Goku's worried voice piped up suddenly, forcing the pounding in Sanzo's head to start throbbing double time.

"Headache. So shut the hell up, stupid monkey." the monk replied, massaging his forehead with his fingertips slightly.

To tell the truth, this wasn't the first of these headaches Sanzo had been experiencing during the past few days. It was one of many. What was different about this one, however, is that it was far more severe, and that sensation of _something_ trying to pry his head apart had hardly been present previously. This time it had demanded his attention, and gave him slight cause for worry. He already had enough on his plate to deal with without having to worry about something like body possession. From somewhere above him, the monk thought he heard an amused cackle. "Rot in hell, you old hag." he grumbled under his breath, somehow just knowing that _she_ had something to do with this, and the laughter had been real. And if Kanzeon Bosatsu had something to do with this, then Sanzo knew he was in _big_ trouble. He groaned once more, this time, with feeling. He felt more than saw Hakkai's worried gaze flicker over his form even as Goku's hand became a slight pressure on his shoulder.

"You gonna be ok, Sanzo?" the youth persisted. A vein began pulsing dangerously on the monk's forehead.

"A-heh. Goku, I think Sanzo just needs a little quiet. Why don't we let him rest?" the healer edged in softly, trying to stop another war before it could get started. Wisely, Goku nodded, sitting back.

"Okay. Feel better Sanzo." Sanzo grunted in reply, closing his eyes and attempting to catch a bit of a nap.

"You perverted kappa! Gimme back my dumpling!"

"Again with the _my_! You stupid monkey, how many times to I have to tell you that your name ain't on it!"

"It was on _my_ plate, you filthy cockroach!"

"Like that matters you little shit!"

"It does _so_ matter you pink-haired perv!"

"If you call my hair pink _one more time_..."

"What're you gonna do about it, pink-head?"

"Alright, that's it– you're goin' down little monkey!"

"Little? Any time you'd like to try you pervy kappa!"

"Bring it on!"

"Fi—"

_THWACK THWACK!_

"The two of you give it a GODDAMN rest before I kick _both_ your asses!"

"Sanzo, what was that for?"

"You friggin' corrupt monk, that _hurt_!"

"Good, maybe you'll remember the pain the next time you try to do something stupid..."

"My, my, isn't this dinner delicious?"

"I've lost my appetite."

"Ooh! Can I have your noodles then Sanzo?"

_THWACK!_

"Back off monkey."

"Ow! Sanzo! I was just askin'! Unlike _some_ people who just steal it without sayin' nothin'!"

"You tryin' ta say somethin' little monkey boy?"

"Stop callin' me a little monkey! You damn perverted cockroach!"

"I call 'em like I see 'em, baby ape."

"You wanna say that to my face you pink-haired perv?"

"I _am_ sayin' it to your face you stupid monkey! And for the last time, my hair ain't –"

_BANG!_

"Shutting up now."

The table fell into silence as everyone finished their meal. Once he had eaten as much as he could make himself, Sanzo rose slowly, his head feeling as if it would fall off at any moment.

"I'm going upstairs for some peace from these two idiots. Don't bother me until breakfast tomorrow." Hakkai nodded as Sanzo left, his usual smile turned thoughtful. Across from him, Gojyo and Goku were already arguing over Sanzo's leftovers like a pair of rabid vultures.

"Don't you two think that's odd?" the healer asked, hoping to distract them.

"Think what's odd?" Gojyo grunted, trying to dislodge his hair from Goku's grip and still hold on to the precious gyoza he'd managed to grab.

"Sanzo just leaving like that. He didn't even finish eating." the brunet continued.

" So? He's got a headache or somethin', right? More food for us. God dammit Goku, LET GO!" Gojyo gave a mighty tug and wound up losing a handful of crimson silk to Goku's incredible grip. But he did come away with three gyoza.

"You little shit! You just pulled out my hair! What, are ya tryin' ta make me _bald_?"

"Hah! It'd be an improvement you damn pervy roach! Serves you right for takin' my food!"

"For the _last_ time you stupid ape, it ain't _your_ food! When're you gonna learn this shit?"

"It's not your food either! It's Sanzo's!

Both monkey and kappa turned simultaneously, forgetting Sanzo had already left, their faces immediately going blank as they registered the blond man's absence.

"Where the hell _is_ that corrupt monk anyways?" Gojyo mumbled, contentedly chewing on his hard-earned gyoza. Goku, face full of lo-mein already, shrugged.

"Mmbbffff ggmmff mmmoo." he replied. Across from him, Hakkai's smile turned a mix of disbelieving and exasperated as Gojyo smacked Goku upside the back of the head.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth. It's disgusting you damn animal." Just as Goku was taking a deep breath to begin what would undoubtedly become the hundreth battle of the day, Hakkai cut in quickly.

"Something's wrong with Sanzo." Both occupants across the table from him froze mid-quarrel, and stared at him. It was a rather funny pose, and Hakkai might have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. Instead he ignored it, behaving as if they were sitting up straight and sober, facing him. Waiting a beat, he pressed on.

"I've been noticing that he's been getting these headaches more and more frequently recently. He doesn't say anything about them, but I have a feeling they aren't normal. Both men across from him frowned thoughtfully, battle forgotten, and the healer breathed an inward sigh of releif. Three heads were better than one, after all, and Hakkai knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate if he was refereeing the battles between those two.

"Well, what do you think we should do about it?" Gojyo began. "It's not like he'd ever admit it, and if it is serious, then we need to find out what's going on." Hakkai nodded.

"I propose we simply keep an eye on him for now, and try to deduce what the possible problem could be. It shouldn't be too hard to spot something; he's already behaving less and less like himself." Gojyo and Goku nodded. The meal concluded in thoughtful silence and the group rose as one and acended the stairs to bed. At the top, Hakkai turned to Goku.

"Goku, you're rooming with him, so be sure to be on the look out for anything odd. Come get me if you notice something." the teen nodded, and turned down the left side of the hall. Hakkai and Gojyo turned right.

"Got any theories?" Gojyo prodded casually.

"None yet. The ideas I'm getting aren't very promising though."

"Sounds like a barrel of laughs. The last thing we need is a constantly pissed off monk. He's bad enough as it is." was the sarcastic reply. Hakkai nodded thoughtfully and closed the door behind them.

"I would have to agree with you there my friend. I hope the problem resolves itself. But somehow, I have a feeling it won't be so easy..." the healer replied. Gojyo groaned, flopping down on his bed, and Hakkai chuckled.

"Just what we friggin' need right now." Hakkai could not agree more as he turned off the light.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"Aya-kun, can you take care of this order? I've got to make the deliveries and Yohji-kun is still sleeping."

Fujimiya Aya felt his eyebrow twitch dangerously in warning at the mention of a certain lazy playboy still sleeping while he was awake and the victim of a pounding headache. He nodded mutely, turning towards the customers in question and flinched ever so slightly as they squealed in delight. Oh Gods, this was going to be a long day...

"Omi. When is Ken going to be in?" Omi smiled at Ran sympathetically.

"Not until at least 3pm I'm afraid. He's coaching the kids this afternoon through their first neighborhood game. That means he'll be there an extra hour or so." the youth replied. "I'm really sorry Aya-kun. I'll try my best to wake Yohji-kun before I head out."

"Hn." was his response. Aya knew it wasn't Omi's fault, but he couldn't prevent his short temper in the face of yet another migraine today. It was at least his fourth or fifth this week, and it was only Wednesday for crying out loud. Ken had told him to see a doctor, and as much as Aya hated doctors, he was tempted to do just that.

"Ja ne, Aya-kun!" and with a spunky wave, Omi darted out the back and towards their apartments before heading out for deliveries. At least he was going to _try_ and wake Kudo again. That way when Aya carved him up into little peices later he'd have no excuse to escape his fate.

With a heavy head, the stoic man turned and began ringing up orders as best he could, trying his hardest not to keep one hand on his temple as he did so.

He was well into tidying-up what remained of that morning's school-girl stampede, enjoying the silence, when he suddenly found his hands full of a rather tasty-looking bento.

"I closed up so we could eat together. You look like you could use a break, and I _know_ I need one..." a smooth, warm voice murmured in his ear. Aya turned, showing deep brown eyes a grateful smile in his own violet ones. "C'mon." Ken said softly, beckoning him towards the kitchenette in back. He nodded, following.

Ken headed for the fridge and pulled out a sports drink, stopping by the stove to put the kettle on and get a tea-cup out of the cabinet above. He set it on the counter. "Err...not sure what sort of tea you want." was the explanation he offered as he set his own bento down on the table and began unwrapping it enthusiastically. Aya measured a small amount of black tea into a disposable tea bag and closed it, dropping it into the cup. He turned around, leaning his rear against the counter as he watched Ken attack the contents of his bento with gusto. He raised an eyebrow, amused.

"That good, huh?" Ken paused, a light blush staining his cheeks as he looked up.

"I guess. Just hungry." was the reply. Ken went back to eating.

"Omi said you wouldn't be back until 3." Aya continued, turning at the whistle of the kettle and pouring hot water into his mug. He felt more than saw Ken's shrug.

"Nah, finished early. We creamed 'em." the red-head didn't have to be facing Ken to pick up on the pride in that sentiment.

"Glad to hear it." he murmured, unable to resist finally massaging his temple with his fingers idly as he sat down. He was understandably surprised when calloused fingers suddenly replaced his own, gently massaging both temples. Aya's eyes fell closed in relief, a sigh escaping his lips. They sat in silence for a little while longer, Ken standing behind Aya and massaging while Aya simply let him massage, grateful at the reprieve from what had been an intense pain.

"You know what? Take a nap. You need it. I'll take over the rest of your shift." the athlete said at length. Aya sighed, but his eyes remained blissfully closed.

"Ken, that's a double shift. Aren't you tired from soccer?" the stoic man replied softly, so as not to agitate the pounding in his head.

"Ran, I'll be fine. I doubt you're going to get much work done like this anyways, and you're probably scaring away customers." the brunet joked. Aya scowled, although the face was softened by his relaxed state. Talented hands moved onto his neck and the red head sighed blissfully, head falling forward. Behind him, Ken chuckled.

"See? You need some rest." suddenly the massage stopped and Aya cracked his eyes open to see Ken crouching before him, concerned. "Are you even hungry?" the stoic man sighed again.

"Not really, no." he admitted. Ken's face pulled into a frown.

"You're going to the doctor's tomorrow. No ifs ands or buts about it." Aya tried for another scowl, but failed miserably, and went back to massaging his temples. Ken's fingers brushed his aside gently and worked their magic once more. If there was anything Ken knew, medicinal massage was among the best. Being a major-athlete had many advantages. _Many_ advantages. Aya's headache dissipated momentarily at the thought of Ken naked and squirming on his bed. Ohh. Very nice. Sighing, he opened his eyes and tried to fix the brunet with his best death-glare. Ken only chuckled.

"Sorry, not gonna work. Even if you _were_ at full power, I'm not swaying on this. It's for your own good Ran." the athlete's voice softened and a calloused, sun-kissed hand slid down gently to cup a pale cheek. Ken leaned forward and planted a chaste, loving kiss on the stoic man's forehead. "Please?" he murmured, sincerity in his voice. Aya made the mistake of looking into deep brown eyes and found himself stuck. With a heavy sigh, he conceded.

"Fine. We'll go. But he isn't going to tell me anything I don't already know." the red-head grumped. Ken chuckled.

"Of course. Now go take a nap." he replied flippantly. Aya had the good sense to glare the back of the laughing man's head into oblivion even as he was trudging up the stairs to their apartments, relief at the idea of a good long rest; time spent with his eyes closed in darkness. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all.

Boy, did he ever get it wrong...

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

With a groan, Genjo sanzo opened his eyes and blinked at his surroundings blearily. His headache, he realized immediately, was gone. Not just retreated, but gone. In fact, he felt oddly–sated. With a small smile, the monk stretched, sitting up in bed and looking about him for his cigarettes. Early morning light and cheery bird-song flitted through the window, and for once, Sanzo wasn't disgruntled by it. But where the hell were his cigarettes?

A quick glance at the night-stand gave him pause. Wait a minute– _The Tragedy of King Lear_? Was he in Hakkai's room? Frowning, Sanzo glanced around. No. He was...where the hell _was_ he! There was only one bed for starters and it was...oh shit. Sanzo cast a hasty glance down at the body he suddenly realized was reposing beside him. Brown hair...Goku? But he'd remembered their being two beds? Had they traded rooms in the night? Had the monkey decided the risk to bodily harm was worth it to sleep in a bed? Sanzo felt it would be prudent to peek first before blowing up and thrashing the teen within an inch of his life for invasion of personal space without permission; he had a sinking feeling he was missing something _really, _really important. Holding his breath, the monk peeled the blanket away from the form lying beside him very, very carefully.

_Oh._

Not Goku. A brunet he'd never seen before, in fact. Sanzo heard laughter, distinct and female, echoing through his shock, and one vital piece clicked into place: he didn't know where he was, he was lying in bed next to a man–a _naked_ man he'd never met before, and Kanzeon Bosatsu was laughing loud enough for him to hear.

And just like that, Sanzo knew, he was most likely _very_, very screwed. He lifted the blankets again carefully, so as not to wake the form reposing beside him, and looked down at himself.

Oh boy. That _definitely_ wasn't his. You function with something for over twenty years and you pretty much know the ins and outs of it at about twelve. There was _nothing_ familiar about what he was staring at. At all. With the exception of maybe size, which came as somewhat of a relief. Hands less bony and calloused in different places held the covers away from skin decidedly more pale than his own. Shit. With a sigh, Sanzo ran an unfamiliar hand up into his hair and started slightly as red strands fell into his view; the texture a bit more silken than he was used to, and certainly not the kind of hair that had been traveling in a topless jeep through all kinds of weather.

He was in someone else's body.

Sanzo pinched himself. It hurt. He did it harder. It hurt more.

Not dreaming. Double shit. And to complete Sanzo's morning from hell, the form beside him stirred, grumbling sleepily and smaking his lips.

"Koi?" a groggy voice called. "It's 6 in the frigging morning. What the hell're you doing up? G'back t' bed." Sanzo let loose another heavy sigh, and cursed inwardly and quite fluidly as he heard delighted female laughter bouncing off the walls around him once again.

_Fucking Hell_.

Why couldn't life ever be simple?

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Fujimiya Aya stirred groggily, groaning and rolling over, his hand connecting with an empty bed beside him. With a soft grumble, the stoic man cracked an eye open, searching for his bed partner, and finding the bed startlingly not only empty, but rather unruffled. And it looked like–an inn bed? What?

"Naaa Sanzo! Are you awake! I'm starving, can we eat breakfast now?" a loud, obnoxious voice called close to his ear. An unfamiliar voice. Aya jumped a mile high and blinked somewhat scared violet eyes at the form bouncing on the floor beside the bed he was sleeping in; which he had decided was in fact not any bed he'd ever slept in until this moment. At the sight of the shocked, confused expression facing him, the teen in front of him abruptly stopped bouncing.

"Sanzo, you still feeling funky? You need something?" the youth prompted. Aya blinked and asked the first thing that came to mind, mouth and brain not working up to speed in his shocked state.

"Who's Sanzo?" the teen in front of him fell back as if struck. Giving him an odd, worried look, the youth hurried out of the room and down the hall, bellowing what sounded like "HAKKAI!" Aya followed the youth out, in search of a bathroom.

He found one without incident, never mind the robes on his lower half, and let himself in, turning on the light. It was when he caught sight of himself in the mirror that he froze.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

Hakkai was wrenched from sleep abruptly by the combined sounds of enthusiastic pounding on the door as Goku bellowed his name from the other side and Gojyo cursing and insulting the monkey beneath his breath. Leave it to Gojyo to wake-up cursing, the healer thought with an inward chuckle. With a sigh, he pulled himself from bed and answered the door, stepping to the side as Goku fell face-first into the room. Gojyo had stopped cursing and was leaning up on one elbow, watching with a mild, half-asleep amusement. Goku brought himself up, spluttering.

"Hakkai, HAKKAI!" the healer winced and heard Gojyo curse again at the loud voice. Hakuryu 'kyuu'ed softly from Hakkai's neglected bed.

"Goku, what on earth is the matter? You're going to wake the whole inn." the brunet admonished softly. Goku simply shook his head.

"You remember what you said, 'bout Sanzo?" the teen panted frantically. Hakkai waited patiently for the boy to continue. When he didn't, pausing to catch his breath, the healer prodded him gently.

"What about Sanzo?" Goku looked up, and took a deep breath. Hakkai prepared himself for a stream of fast-moving words without properly placed breaks.

"Well this morning he's—" Goku was abruptly cut off by the sound of a loud, hoarse, masculine scream. Sanzo's scream to be exact. Coming from the bathroom.

Oh, _shit_.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

There you have it. The start of something fun, I hope. What does everyone think? Let me know! Ja na minna!


	2. You're Not the Man I Married!

Hey-ho, here's another update on Trading Spaces. To those of you who are looking for Edo, I'm sorry, but as the story is getting complicated, those updates take longer. Trading Spaces I can write during school visits and then upload into my office PC.

I'm a lot less familiar with the Saiyuki cast, and so they may come out far more awkward. I've been writing, reading, and watching Weiss for awhile now, but just started Saiyuki this year, and only recently was able to get the English mangas, thanks to a kind, good friend of mine. (I love you!) The rest I watched and read in Japanese, which still a rather difficult language for me. I speak and understand with about an intermediate fluency, which probably isn't much at all. I can carry on most daily conversation. That's about it.

By the by, while 'koi' does mean fish, like most Japanese words, there's more than one meaning. Koi also means love, as does 'ai'. In Japan, there are different kinds of love, and most people are reluctant to express it. (How sad is _that_?) The pop-term for it is "labu labu" (i.e. 'Love love' with a Japanese accent.) "Aishiteru" is a much heavier, deeper term, and is rarely, if ever used. As far as what a male would call a male lover, I'm not completely sure. 'Koi' is not widely used in Japan. 'Anata' (lit. 'You') is the common pet name in a male/female marriage. 'Boifuurendo' (Boyfriend) and 'Garlufuurendo'(Girlfriend) are also commonly used among younger people, as well as 'kareshi'(boyfriend), 'kanojyo'(girlfriend), and 'koibito'(lover). Whew! Makes learning the language difficult, when you have about two or three different meanings at _least_ for every word. Ok, on with the show!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

**_Trading Spaces, Chapter 2:_**

"**_You're not the man I married!"_**

Well _fuck_.

What was he supposed to do _now_? Sanzo stared blankly at the form beside him that had gone back to sleep. Or so the monk hoped. And just how the hell was he supposed to manage not getting himself committed to a mental institution? He didn't imagine that simply telling the man beside him that he wasn't who-ever's body this was was going to be calmly and rationally accepted. Or accepted at all. So what then? Sanzo thought long and hard, his need for nicotine slowly eroding at his brain. For starters, he didn't even know who the hell was---_Ken_.

Wait, what?

_Ken_. That was the person beside him. He was sure of it. But how did he know and where did it--

..._12 pm shift today. Can sleep a little late..._

Ahh.

Slowly, bits and pieces of information began to trickle into his mind and Sanzo grabbed at them, studying them like an entomologist might study a rare species of insect. He realized, as a mental image of Ken naked, and, well...panting on a bed floated through his brain, that these were very likely memories of the person's body he was in.

The brunet next to him was his lover.

So not only did he get stuck as a _florist_, but a _gay _florist none the less. Dammit. And how the hell he could read memories when another person's soul wasn't in residence was beyond him. At least Gojyo wasn't here to laugh at him. In fact, Sanzo was pretty damn sure none of the others were here, so screw it--he didn't really care _what_ happened at this point. The monk had a feeling that this wasn't a permanent arrangement, and he welcomed the chance at a vacation from those morons for a bit. Not to mention all that traveling. He could handle this. He'd been through worse--_far_ worse. And if the three aspects wanted him to go West still so badly, they'd find a way to fix this pronto. Until then, he'd try and make the best of his current situation.

All he had to do was pretend to be this...Fujimiya Aya person. Not too hard. Although he wished he had more than surface memories to go on. After all, while knowing what he ate and who he screwed yesterday were useful bits of information, they didn't tell him much about what kind of personality he was supposed to have.

_'Just go with it, Konzen_.' Kanzeon Bosatsu's voice informed him glibly. Sanzo scowled.

_'I don't know what the fuck you have to do with this;--- no wait; this is probably **all **your fault--but you better fucking fix it you old hag, or I'm coming up there. And even that dickhead of a major-domo won't be able to stop me when I show you just how much you've managed to piss me off.'_ the monk growled back mentally.

_'You're welcome to try. Sounds like fun. Better pay attention now though...'_ Before Sanzo could reply or ask what Kanzeon was talking about, there were a pair of hands on his shoulders, and he found himself staring, up close and personal, into a pair of very assessing brown eyes.

"Ran, what is it? Do you still have that headache? You _always_ take advantage of a few more minutes of sleep when we both have the opening shift off." a warm, smooth voice called. Sanzo stared blankly at the man who was supposed to be his alter ego's lover. Not a bad choice at all, for a _guy_. But why was he saying 'Ran'? Wasn't his name Aya? Fucking A, he didn't want to deal with this shit. How the hell was he supposed to be someone else when he didn't even know what the fuck his name was? He scowled darkly, aggravated, and decided his best bet would be to play along.

"Nnn. Yeah. Headache is still there." he grunted, putting a hand to his head and sighing as he closed his eyes. There was a brief moment of silence. And then--

"Alright, that's it. To the doctor's we go. I'm getting Yohji up. He can take over your shift after ditching yesterday." Sanzo turned wide eyes up to the brunet that was now busy walking around the room in search of his clothes. The _doctor's_? Shit!

"Wait--what do you mean _doctor's_?" the monk growled. He was _not_ dealing with any damn medical personnel when he wasn't in his own freaking body. They'd likely be asking him all sorts of personal questions that he couldn't answer. And the Gods knew what _that_ could lead to. Stupid _bitch_! Sanzo thought with a growl. When was he ever going to catch a break? Ken turned and gave him an odd, worried look from over one shoulder.

"We talked about this yesterday, remember? I told you then I wasn't going to change my mind. You've still got a headache, you're going to the doctor's. Now stop being difficult get dressed, dammit!" the brunet growled. Sanzo bristled. He didn't care _whose_ body he was in, he wasn't going to take orders like that from _anyone_. And he _wasn't_ going to any damn doctor's. That was final. Glowering, the monk tried his hand at burning holes into the man's brain with only his thoughts. It didn't work. Damn.

"I am _not _fucking going to any doctor's, is that clear?" he ground out in a gravelly tone that sounded more familiar to his own. The brunet paused in the fastening of his jeans, and gave Sanzo what the monk interpreted as a clearly hurt look.

"What the hell is your _problem _Ran? You agreed to this yesterday when I fought you for it! I'm _worried_ about you! You haven't been yourself lately!" the once-blond man snorted, wishing once again, most heartily, for a cigarette. This guy had no idea...

"I changed my mind. I'm not going." he grunted, looking away. The swift sound of footsteps approaching him alerted Sanzo to the fact that he now had Ken's complete attention, and before he could begin to back himself out of bed, a pair of hands slammed into the wall on either side of his head angrily, and he looked up to find Ken's nose a mere breath from his own. It was making him uncomfortable. He fervently hoped this guy wasn't going to try and kiss him. That was the _last_ thing he needed.

Brown eyes once again narrowed, this time viciously, in an assessment the monk had a feeling he was at risk of failing. He sat in silence, his mind working furiously on ways he could possibly get himself out of this and smooth things over before they got out of hand, when there was a pounding at the door. Ken let out a small, frustrated growl.

"This isn't finished, Ran. There's something wrong, and I'm going to find out _what_." he hissed, pushing away from the wall and turning to answer the door. It opened to reveal a tall, lanky man, his wavy brunet hair tied back into a casual ponytail, hair in the front remaining around his face. Sanzo though of Gojyo for a moment, but the idea drifted away.

"_Yo_. You two lovebirds wanna keep it down? 'Man needs his beauty sleep, and you're disturbing _mine_." a smooth, smarmy voice muttered. Yeah, this man definitely reminded him of Gojyo. Perhaps a bit more vain, however.

"Fuck off Yohji! You got plenty of beauty sleep when you skipped out yesterday. In fact, _you're_ taking Ran's shift in the shop today, since he's **going to the doctor's**." the brunet grated out, the last sentence with more emphasis for Sanzo's sake. The man called 'Yohji' blanched, and when he pulled back slightly, Sanzo noticed the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Ooh. Nicotine. He was moving before he even realized it.

"No way! It's my day off today! Get the kid to do it!"

"He has _school_ today Yohji! You don't have shit. And since you took _yesterday_ off, consider your holiday _over_." Ken growled back, clearly not in the mood and quite ready for a fight. Yohji took a deep breath, putting the cigarette between his fingers, and leaned into Ken's personal space.

"I was _sick_ yesterday! Sick!" he growled.

"Bullshit! You were _hung-over_! There's a difference!" the shorter brunet growled back, wishing his lover was more himself and inclined to make Yohji pull his own damn weight.

Sanzo paid no attention. He was almost there. _Cigarette_. He knew Aya didn't smoke often, so he shouldn't be craving one, but his brain couldn't seem to let go of the addiction. And damn, did he ever need one right now...

"Dammit Ken! Have you _ever_ been hung over?" Yohji was yelling.

"Yes, I ha---" Ken stopped dead, Yohji along with him, anger forgotten as Aya causally plucked Yohji's cigarette from between his fingers and sauntered down the hall, taking a deep drag that nearly depleted the entire stick in one sitting. Ken and Yohji stared at each other, then back at Aya.

"Did he just--?" Yohji began.

"Yeah, he did." Ken replied, concern and shock mingling. Yohji frowned darkly.

"First the jock accuses me of cutting shop like I'm some kind of _school boy_, and now icicle is smoking the cigarette right outta my damn mouth! I don't know what the hell the matter with you two is, but _fix it_, damn it, and leave the rest of us out of it!" the lanky man growled.

"Spare me. You cut out yesterday, you pull your share today. End of story. And goddammit Ken, I am _not_ going to the doctor's!" 'Aya' growled, finishing what had been Yohji's cigarette in the second puff. Ken, mute with shock, had nothing to say. Even Yohji, angry though he was, remained silent and staring. Something was definitely up with Aya.

"_Ken_, what the hell happened between you guys?" the playboy whispered into the brunet's ear. "You deny him sex or something?" Ken growled, swatting at him.

"No, you asshole! He woke up all pissy this morning!" the younger man shot back.

"_He_ is right here thanks. And if you two idiots don't lay off I swear I'm going to hurt someone." Sanzo growled angrily. He found himself quite suddenly pinned by not one assessing stare, but _two_. Yohji's lazy green eyes were studying him with a bored interest that belied the sharpness behind his jade gaze. The monk fought the urge to take off and find a nice restaurant to sit in until things ordered themselves correctly once more. The silence dragged on, and Sanzo felt a vein begin pulsing dangerously on this forehead.

"Alright. Who are you and where is Ran?" Ken spoke so suddenly in the silence that the other two men jumped before turning to stare at him incredulously. But the brunet's tone had been deadly serious. Maybe this wasn't going to be as hard as he thought? If Ken had been the one to suggest the idea in the first place, perhaps he'd be more open to the answer to that question.

"Ken, not you too! What the hell is with you two this morning?" Yohji growled. Ken only shook his head.

"I don't know _who's_ in that head, but it isn't Ran. I love him. I know. His eyes are all wrong." the younger brunet mumbled back. Yohji rolled his eyes at the sentimentality and turned back to stare at 'Aya' thoughtfully, eyes narrowed. After a moment or two, they widened in shock.

"Holy _shit_!" the playboy muttered. 'Aya' shifted uncomfortably. The stoic man's expression usually wore an 'I feel nothing.', or 'leave me the hell alone' look. Instead, that pale face now wore an expression that said quite plainly 'die slowly'. It was a shade far more belligerent that either had ever seen. Aya got pissed. He got enraged. He got cranky and grumpy and out-of-sorts. But he didn't get belligerent. Unless he was really, _really _drunk. And he was hardly _ever_ that rude to Ken, especially when the young man was worried over Ran's health. He bitched sure, but almost always gave in. Yohji frowned.

"You haven't been drinking, have you Fujimiya?" he pondered casually. The vein pulsing on 'Aya's' forehead grew larger and another one on his jaw joined it.

"_No_, I have not been drinking." he growled back in a clipped tone. "But I sure as hell wish I was..." he added as an afterthought.

Right, so in this case, as weird as it sounded, Yohji agreed with Ken. The man before them was _not_ Aya. But who was it? How had they managed to get in? Presumably, they'd have to slip into bed with Ken, _after_ getting the real Aya out. That seemed rather impossible. Especially since the man standing in front of them looked too much like the real Aya to be a fake. So then that left Aya's mind.

If Aya wasn't in his right mind, then who _was_? Yohji and Ken's eyes widened at the same time as they reached the same conclusion.

"Mastermind!" they yelled, and turned half frightened, half angry gazes back onto Sanzo. The monk swallowed. He had no idea who or what 'Mastermind' was, but he had a feeling it wasn't something he wanted to be labeled. Ken took a slow, menacing step towards him, face tight with rage and determination. Behind him, Yohji stood rigidly, clearly battle ready. Sanzo recognized a fighting stance when he saw one. And he had a feeling this wouldn't be like fighting those cannon-fodder demons either. Especially since he didn't have his gun.

_Shit. This wasn't looking promising._

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When Gojyo, Goku, and Hakkai arrived at the bathroom and knocked on the door, there was only silence that greeted them. Goku, expecting the worst, called Nyoi-bo forth, preparing to break the door down. Gojyo was not far behind with his shakujyo, however, Hakkai put an arm out in front of both of them, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"That isn't Sanzo's aura in there." the healer said calmly. Gojyo and Goku tensed, weapons at ready, as Hakkai slowly turned the knob. It was unlocked. He pushed it opened slowly...

'Sanzo' was standing in front of the mirror pulling comically at his face and alternating a close examination of his eyes and hair. When the door opened, he turned and regarded them with wide, unsure eyes.

"Sanzo...?" Hakkai ventured tentatively. There was a moment of silence, and then–

"Is that my name?"

Goku looked scared.

"C'mon Sanzo! Knock it off!" he wailed, putting his weapon away. Gojyo followed suit, looking at 'Sanzo' closely. Hakkai frowned suddenly, shaking his head. Before anyone could react, he had 'Sanzo' by the neck, and slammed him into the wall, eyes narrowed coldly.

"You're not Sanzo. Your aura is completely different. Who are you and what did you do with him?" he ground out in a flat, cold tone. The monk grabbed at Hakaki's hands, and with sudden and surprising force, he managed to wrench them away; his second move was to get one of Hakkai's arms behind the healer's back in a locked position, gaze suddenly less shocked and far more deadly.

"I don't know who the hell you people are, and I _don't_ know who the hell this Sanzo person is, but I warn you, I won't go down without a fight. You had better send me back to where I belong before I get hostile." the imposter ground out.

"Hakkai!" Gojyo yelled out. He leapt forward, shakujyo in hand, only to find Goku blocking his path, nyoi-bo meeting Gojyo's weapon with ease. The teen had a stark, serious look on his face. "Goku, what the hell are you doing? This guy's an imposter, and now he's got Hakkai!" the kappa growled. Goku only shook his head.

"I believe him. He doesn't know where Sanzo is. He's got Sanzo's body. If we hurt him, we hurt Sanzo." the youth stated seriously. Gojyo growled, but refrained from attacking again. As much as he hated to admit it, the monkey was right, and they were in a no-win situation. Aside from various other reasons, without Sanzo, there was no mission west. Reluctantly, the kappa stood down, but refrained from putting his weapon away.

In a sudden move, while 'Sanzo' was distracted by Gojyo and Goku, Hakkai managed to wrench himself from the armlock and flipped easily, landing a safe distance away.

"You don't know where Sanzo is?" he asked carefully. The 'monk' made a face.

"No. I don't even know _who_ he is, let alone where. I can only assume you mean the body I'm in." he replied in a flat, cold tone. Instead of looking belligerent, Sanzo's face had gone stoically emotionless, and cold. He regarded them cautiously, keeping a distance away.

Finally, Goku walked up to him slowly, his weapon gone, stopping just in front of the man who was Sanzo but wasn't. He looked up into the monk's face, and after a brief moment, said, " I'm Son Goku. This's Hakkai and Gojyo. Who're you?" Hakkai and Gojyo collectively held their breaths. 'Sanzo' scowled.

"I'm Fujimiya Aya." he said flatly. Goku blinked. Hakkai and Gojyo released their breath, and Gojyo had a pleasantly surprised look on his face.

"You're a chick? Trapped in a guy's body? Whoa! Why the hell does Sanzo have all the luck?" When he received two odd, exasperated stares and one livid one, he shrugged. "What?"

"I'm a man. M-A-N. " Aya growled.

"Then why do you have a girl's name?" the kappa pressed. 'Sanzo's' face went colder, if that was possible, the expression completely flat.

"That is none of your business." he growled back in a low tone of voice. "So don't ask again."

"Touuuchy!" Gojyo shot back. The cold expression adopted an enraged glare from amethyst depths. Hakkai stepped forward.

"Ah haha! Gojyo, let's not push it." he said politely. Tone belying the warning within the message. Wisely, Gojyo closed his mouth.

"Do you have any idea where Sanzo could be?" the healer continued carefully. 'Sanzo's' expression turned thoughtful.

"If I had a guess, I'd likely say he's probably stuck in _my_ body right about now." A scowl followed this statement at the thought that someone else was in his body around Ken, who might not know what was going on yet.

"Okay, so it's easy right? Where did you come from? Your _real_ body I mean. We'll just go there and try and fix it. Right Hakkai?" Goku cut in, still looking miserable and uneasy. His expression brightened slightly at the prospect of an easy answer to their solution.

"Goku. I'm afraid it isn't that simple." Hakkai began. He looked over at Sanzo–no, Aya. The man frowned thoughtfully.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me where we are now?" he replied.

"We're in China, on our way West towards India to stop the revival of Gyumaoh." Gojyo responded casually. He'd lit a cigarette and was smoking it while leaning against the wall. He appeared relaxed, but enough time spent around Yohji told Aya that he was anything but. Not that he could blame any of these people. Although he was surprised at how quickly they'd figured things out. He only hoped Ken was as fast.

"China?" Aya frowned again. "I'm from Japan." Hakkai's face turned thoughtful.

"Japan? I've heard of it, but must confess I've never been there. It's an island, is it not?" Aya nodded. Goku looked confused.

"Wait, you're from another country? Is it far?" he asked, hope dwindling. Aya nodded reluctantly.

"We'd have to cross the sea. To the East." he informed them. Hakkai shook his head.

"Somehow, I don't think that would work anyways." he said slowly. Aya nodded in agreement.

"Look. Sanzo's got a mission, right? The three aspects sent 'im, so if they want us to finish, they'll fix this. Why don't we just chill out and see what happens?" Gojyo prompted from his corner. Hakkai tilted his head, and Goku looked alarmed at the idea of no Sanzo for an indefinite period of time.

"I don't know about that, either. The three aspects may not know about this. " the healer said thoughtfully. Goku's eyes grew larger.

"Wait, so he's stuck like this?" the teen yelped. "No way!" Hakkai put his hands up in a placating gesture.

"Now, now, Goku. Calm down. I'm sure if we give it some thought, a solution will present itself. " turning to face Aya, he continued, "But in the mean time, I think that maybe we should talk about a few things. I'm sure you need to get acquainted with that body, and we need to make sure you aren't going to kill us in our sleep." Here Aya's scowl deepened. Hakkai raised his hands again.

"Just precaution, you understand. We don't really know anything about you, and you're in Sanzo's body. If you would please take the sutra from around your neck and give it to me?" Aya looked down at his shoulders and spied the teal and black sutra he'd noticed in the bathroom. Taking it off carefully, he rolled it up and handed it to Goku. Goku looked at him with impossibly wide eyes. Turning, he handed the scripture to Hakkai. Hakkai took it, and smiling, pocketed it in his shirt. He turned a polite, friendly expression onto Aya.

"Well, you handed that over with no problem, so I don't think there's going to be much of an issue here. " the healer said jovially. Goku was still staring at Aya with huge eyes and the swordsman noticed that the man leaning against the wall had his full attention. He scowled angrily.

"What? It's just a sutra, for crying out loud. I mean it's sacred, but I have no need for it. It's not like I know how to even _read _it." Goku looked ready to faint. Hakkai and Gojyo blinked at him. Aya's scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms over his chest angrily. At length, Goku suddenly burst into tears, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around 'Sanzo's' knees.

"Waahhh! I want Sanzo!" Aya looked positive ready to kill him. The tell tale twitching of a blond eyebrow marked the warning. Hakkai gently peeled Goku off of Aya and stood him upright. He looked over at Aya, and Aya scowled at the three of them in a way that wasn't Sanzo-like at all. He didn't know who'd caused this nightmare, but he was going to carve them up slowly when he found them. He wanted Ken. But Ken was with another man. The very thought made Aya's entire jaw twitch and tighten. Hakkai sweat-dropped.

Oh dear. This was going to be fun.

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Wow, so this is a lot harder to write than I thought. I tend to write more serious, angsty stuff, so making this interesting and still keeping it in character is difficult. I can't be too silly with them, like I want to be. (I DID want Ken to burst out with something along the lines of 'You're not the man I married!' but felt it was way too silly. See? I have an odd sense of humor...)

What do you think? Still entertaining? Should I leave off and play somewhere else? Let me know. Anything you want to see happen? They're all going to be involved in swapping bodies, so if there are any situations you'd like me to add in, let me know. So long as it's do-able I'd be more than happy to work it in. Until next-time!

Ja na!


	3. You Have Just Entered the Twilight Zone

Ok, so here's chapter 3. An apology for the chapter 31 update on Edo—I feel that it was scattered and disjointed after reading it again, and realized that updating both Trading Spaces and Edo at the same time is a bad combo. The more light-hearted genre of Trading was leaking into the somber, tragic air of Edo. Hence the strange ending to the chapter. I'm forcing myself back into the story and will NOT update this story again until I have written a nice, long chapter for Edo. I hope that'll work. Ok, hope you enjoy this—so hard to write…

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_**Trading Spaces, Chapter 3 :**_

_**You Have Just Entered the Twilight Zone**_

Sanzo took a cautious step back; slowly. The demeanor of the two men before him had changed dramatically, and the monk was wondering just what in the hell he was supposed to do _now_. He had no sutra, and no gun; hell, he didn't even have his robes. These guys didn't _look_ like demons, and they didn't _feel_ like demons, although they certainly were hostile enough. A brief scrutiny drew no signs of power limiters, although the man who'd reminded him of Gojyo _was_ wearing an earring on one ear.

Ken took a slow, malicious step forward, his body fairly vibrating with rage.

"I don't know what you Schwartz bastards are planning, but you'd better get the _fuck_ out of Ran's head before I kill you." the brunet growled. Never mind how he was planning on doing that since it was still Ran's body, after all. Yohji took a step closer, backing Ken up non-verbally.

Sanzo cursed, fluidly, but just as things were about to come to blows, a younger, blond head poked its way around the corner.

"Did you guys just say Schwartz?" a lighter, youthful voice inquired, sounding mildly surprised and slightly disbelieving.

"Yeah Omittitchi, we did. Mastermind's got control of Fujimiya's brain, as whacked-out as that sounds." Yohji replied. Omi frowned.

"You guys have been watching too many science fiction movies. There's no _way_ Mastermind could do something like that without being in the immediate area. He'd have to be in _sight_ of Aya-kun." the youth responded, sounding both annoyed and highly skeptical.

"Omi, there's someone else in Ran's head! I swear! He isn't himself! He smoked Yohji's cigarette in two puffs!" Ken yelled back. Omi frowned.

"Aya-kun, are you really stressed out again? That's no reason to start smoking! Yohji, you're being a bad influence on Aya-kun!" Yohji blanched and then looked indignant.

"Hey! He took the damn thing right out of my mouth! It wasn't like I _gave _it to him!" the playboy argued back. Omi looked from Yohji to Aya and back again. He frowned thoughtfully, his entire body coming around the corner now.

"Ok. So something's up, but we don't know what. Aya-kun, are you feeling ok?" the blond pressed slowly. Sanzo, who had squeezed his eyes shut and put a hand to the bridge of his nose, snorted; the vein on his forehead dangerously close to popping. No, he was _not_ feeling ok.

"He's got a headache, and I'm _trying_ to get him to the damn doctor's!" Ken ground out.

Ok, that was it. Lover or not, if this guy took any more liberties with Sanzo's person, including speaking for him or forcing him to do things he had no desire to do, the monk was going to _find_ a gun and _shoot_ him.

"_He_ is right here, _he_ is not going to _any_ fucking doctor's, _he_ does not have a headache, _he_ is _not_ Aya, _and_, he can speak for himself." 'Aya' growled. The room descended into silence. Omi took a deep breath, face palming and wondering what had happened within the last fifteen minutes to make his entire team go nuts. They'd obviously _all_ lost their minds. Maybe it was some sort of gas? Maybe it really _was_ Schwartz, only not in the way that they'd originally thought? Very slowly, and with the utmost of patience, Omi shoved all thoughts of getting any _real_ work done aside, and looked over at Aya who was claiming he wasn't Aya.

"Then if you aren't Aya-kun, who _are_ you?" the youth waited, breath held, for an answer. He wouldn't be surprised if something like 'An-pan Man' came out.

"Genjyo Sanzo Houshi." the red-head replied evenly. Omi stared. That was...original. He hadn't expected _that_. Ken took another step forward, confusion and suspicion plastered all over his face.

"Wait, like one of the five high priests in Buddhism? You know, the guys who're supposed to be close to heaven or some shit like that? They still _have_ those? And I thought _Saiyuki_ was just a Chinese legend anyways." 'Aya' nodded, but frowned at the name _Saiyuki_. What legend…?

Yohji just blinked for a moment before bursting out into fits of hysterical laughter. He clutched his stomach and sank to his knees, tears coming to his eyes.

"You-you mean to tell me, that you _seriously_ think you're some divine guru?" the lanky man managed to gasp out between fits of laughter. "Oh _man_, that's _priceless_! And—and wait, lemme guess—you're looking for a water dragon, a monkey king, and pig, am I right? That's _precious_! Kenken—get the video camera! I think you need to go see a _different_ kind of doctor Aya!" the playboy burst out between guffaws.

Omi looked thoughtful, and Ken, well Ken just looked horrified. He looked like a man about to lose his best friend. Or lover for that matter. Sanzo let out a heavy, aggravated, 'why me' sigh before planting his hand into his face and counting slowly backwards from ten.

"R-an?" Ken croaked, taking a tentative step forward and reaching out one hand. "Is this–does this have something to do with–that headache?" Omi looked suddenly at Ken.

"Headache?" he asked slowly. He looked back at Aya, eyes narrowing in scrutiny, before they widened a fraction.

"Oh Gods." he gasped, as if coming to an epiphany. Yohji stopped laughing, and everyone's attention focused on the youth. "You-you're schizophrenic Aya-kun?" he breathed, shattering the silence. Which wasn't the smartest thing to say, even if Aya really _was_. Ken's face lost all color and Yohji's became somber. Sanzo started counting back from thirty now.

"Shit, Omi. Don't mess with us. Are you serious? How the hell can you tell!" the playboy muttered. The youth nodded.

"If what Ken says is true, then Aya-kun is exhibiting sure signs of a schizophrenic episode–the terrible headache is a warning sign." Omi mumbled. Ken shook his head back and forth slowly, then gradually with more speed, determination etching into his features.

"No. No he isn't. Ran isn't schizoid. He's someone else." the brunet said firmly. Yohji and Omi gave him incredulous looks, while 'Aya' pulled his face from his hand to give Ken a grateful, hopeful look. Seeing the questioning gazes focused on him, Ken pressed on slowly. "Look, he's never shown any 'signs' or had any episodes before, right?" the brunet asked. Omi shook his head.

"Ken, schizophrenics can go for years without ever showing any signs. It just _happens_ sometimes. " he said slowly. Ken shook his head again.

"Bullshit, Omi. There've gotta be more signs than a three-day headache. I thought the symptoms built up over a longer period than that. And isn't he supposed to get all paranoid and hear shit that isn't there?" the brunet pressed. Yohji tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, still on the floor, and Omi frowned. Sanzo decided _not_ to mention his divine conversation with Kanzeon Bosatsu in that case. Deep laughter bounced off the walls around him once more, and Sanzo could feel his temper doing a slow, pressure-cooker type boil. However, he was more than shocked when the three men with him _also_ stopped and looked around as if they'd heard it.

"Holy shit. Did you guys hear that?" Yohji asked, eyes wide. Ken suddenly looked nervous, shoulders hunching in on themselves, as he looked around the room.

"Yeah. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up." he replied. Omi's frown deepened.

"Ok, so perhaps this is more _supernatural_ than we thought..." the youth murmured. Sanzo resisted the urge to smack him. Hadn't he been _saying_ something along those lines? Ken gave Omi a frustrated look.

"I freaking _told_ you! Ran's possessed! Nobody believes me about this shit!" he growled, crossing his arms angrily.

"But why would this kind of thing start _now_? This place has never been haunted before..." the youth continued. They all looked thoughtful. Sanzo let loose an angry growl.

"Dammit! That's because your house isn't haunted you idiots! I fucking _told_ you, I'm Genjyo Sanzo, and whoever the hell 'Aya' is, he's probably stuck in _my_ body right now. " the man burst out angrily. He stalked down the stairs, shaking his head back and forth slowly, muttering to himself.

"Fucking cursed...everywhere I go...god-dammned idiots...far as the eye can see….can't even...five minutes...what the hell..." he trailed off as he disappeared into the kitchen. Omi, Ken, and Yohji all looked at each other stupidly.

"So now what do we do?" Yohji asked.

"That's the million-yen question, Yohji-kun." Omi responded. Slowly, they all followed after 'Aya'.

"Why the hell do I feel like I've just walked into a _Twilight Zone_ rerun?" Ken muttered.

"Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do" Yohji sang at him. Ken favored the lanky playboy with a glare.

"That is _so_ not funny you asshole." he growled, smacking Yohji on the arm.

"Ow, that _hurt_ you bastard!" Yohji spat. Ken let half of his mouth curl up into a grin.

"Well, we know this ain't a dream then." he replied. Yohji smacked him back.

"There, now we know for _sure_." he muttered as Ken grumbled, rubbing his arm. Omi rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Why was _he_ always the one who had the exclusive privilege of remaining sane in a house full of mad-men?

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooooOOOoooOOO

As it turned out, 'Aya' held the same dislike of people Sanzo had, however, this dislike did not stem to frequent insults, snappy comebacks, or violent outbursts. Instead, it manifested in a quiet, stoic temperament, in which often no more than a two or three word reply could be pried from the man's mouth. Aya rarely, if ever, spoke, and usually only if first spoken to. He was civil, when he did speak, however, which came as somewhat of a relief. And somehow, the silent stretches with the man were not awkward. Aya tended to mind his own business and leave others to theirs.

After the initial explanation of who Aya was supposed to be, and who he _actually_ was, the man had said he felt it best if they continued with the mission West, as he didn't know how long he would be in Sanzo's body (much to Goku's dismay), and the mission probably couldn't wait. Luckily, the man knew how to use a gun well enough, which was a relief to Hakkai's mind. So, they'd started back on the road the following morning, after a strange breakfast. Aya read the paper quietly, drinking tea instead of coffee, Sanzo's ever-present cigarette markedly absent. He seemed so much like Sanzo that Gojyo and Goku felt comfortable enough to break out into the first argument of the morning.

Aya said nothing, and did nothing. Hakkai tried a few times to get the two to knock it off, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Eventually, Aya finished eating and lowered his paper. There was an annoyed, highly exasperated expression on his face as he pulled off his reading glasses and folded them carefully. (Apparently the man was also a neat freak.) He stuck them into his sleeve.

"Since it's obvious you two are done eating, we should go." he said flatly. Gojyo and Goku turned to look at him, protests on their lips. Aya leveled them with what Hakkai could only term a 'glare of death', and both men shut up wisely. Goku shoved a few extra meat buns and dumplings into his bag and they headed out the door, 'Sanzo' moving quiet and ghost-like towards the waiting jeep. He waited patiently as they all climbed in, and climbed into the seat that had been left open for him; the front. There he sat and proceeded to continue reading the paper as they drove off, never mind the wind in his face or the squabbling in the back seat. Hakkai sighed. He missed Sanzo already. Despite the temper, the man at least kept Gojyo and Goku quiet a good portion of the time. He concluded that Aya was probably an insanely patient man...

Fifteen minutes after lunch proved him wrong.

"Dammit you filthy perv! Gimmie back my meat bun!"

"Hah! You _still_ haven't learned? I _told_ you, dipshit, your name ain't on it, so it ain't yours!"

"_I'm_ the one who took it from the inn you stupid roach! I'm the one who gets to eat it! You want meat buns go find your own, dumbass!"

"Che, like _that_ matters! That just makes it stolen! And in case you haven't noticed, we're in ass-fuck nowhere! How the hell am I supposed to get any food out here?"

"That's not my problem you perv! And it is _not_ stolen! We paid for it, you stupid kappa! I don't steal, unlike _some_ people!"

"What the hell are you tryin' to say little ape? You callin' me a theif?"

"Hell yes! _And _a cheat! You pink-haired perv!"

"Red, monkey-boy, RED!"

"Hah! Don't call me a stinkin' monkey you stupid kappa!"

"Then don't call my hair _pink_ baby chimp!"

"I'll call it whatever I want, you filthy cockroach!"

"I'd like to see you–"

Hakkai watched, out of his peripheral vision as suddenly, Aya lowered the paper very, very slowly. Behind the newsprint was the face of a man who looked ready to explode. Ah. So silence did not _necessarily_ mean patience. The healer supposed it had just taken a bit to get the man riled. Aya turned and pinned Hakkai with a 'look'.

"Stop.The.Car." he growled. Obediently, Hakkai slammed on the brakes. Gojyo and Goku went flying into the front seat, landing rather painfully, argument effectively, if temporarily ended.

"What the fuck? Hakkai! You tryin' ta kill us or _what_?" Gojyo growled. The healer chuckled.

"Sa-er...Aya asked me to stop." he offered in reply. Everyone turned to look at the stoic man only to find the seat empty. They blinked.

"Holy shit! He's _gone_!" the half-breed muttered.

"There!" Goku yelled out, pointing to a familiar white-robed form walking a distance away on the same road. They piled out of jeep and ran to catch up.

"Naa! Aya! Whatcha doin'? We're supposed to be on the road until the next town!" Goku called, first to arrive. Aya turned and regarded him with another 'death glare', one blond eyebrow twitching.

"Hn." was his reply.

"What the fuck are you doin' man? Taking a walk? _Now_?" Aya paused and turned, the death glare now sub-zero. They all took a step back, eyes wide. Whoa. That was a new and rather terrifying expression on Sanzo's face.

"I'm _not_ going _anywhere_ with you two idiots." he ground out. "Hakkai, god-speed." he grunted, turning to go. Somehow, the healer felt betrayed. Why was it suddenly _his_ job to manage Gojyo and Goku? The brunet had a new appreciation suddenly for Sanzo's former management of both Kappa and Monkey. The man really _had_ been good with animals. Goku looked crest fallen. Gojyo looked annoyed.

"You don't have much of a choice pal." he growled. Aya met his glare with another frosty one of his own.

"Hn." was all he replied, walking down the road again. Gojyo sputtered.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going? You can't leave!" Hakkai rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, putting his face in his hand. He had _known_ this was going to be difficult, to say the least. Gojyo sounding like a twelve year old wasn't helping anything.

"Can't we discuss this Aya?" he asked levelly. Goku just watched with wide eyes. Aya paused, turning to look at Hakkai over his shoulder.

"If I have to sit", he began," for another minute, with the racket those two are making, I'm going to do something _you'll _regret. " he spat out. Gojyo snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'd like to see you _try_." he spat out. The half-breed normally didn't get along with Sanzo, and so having someone else in the man's body seemed to be trying the kappa's patience. Aya stopped, body stiffening. He turned slowly.

"_Don't_ tempt me." he replied, voice dangerously low. Hakkai tensed. Instincts were telling him these were dangerous waters Gojyo was treading upon. Gojyo snorted again.

"Che. Like you _could._" he returned. Aya's glare got colder. Before anyone could react, the man was moving quickly, down the path towards Gojyo. At the last moment, he feinted right, coming up behind the kappa. A quick strike to the back of the neck and the half-breed went down heavily, unconscious. 'Sanzo' stood in his wake, cracking his knuckles. Goku jumped back, Nyoibo out and ready, but Hakkai only stood by placidly. It was a move he often used, and he knew it caused no damage other than a severe headache that would probably keep Gojyo silent for a good period. Aya shrugged.

"He was irritating me." he said simply. Hakkai nodded, smiling sunnily. Goku just blinked, looking slightly nervous. Deciding he didn't want to share in Gojyo's experience, the monkey eventually decided to keep silent.

Much to Hakkai's surprise, Aya hefted Gojyo up and began walking slowly towards the jeep with him. The healer came around Aya's other side, helping him bear the weight. The stoic man nodded in thanks and they set Gojyo into the back of the jeep carefully. Nodding again, this time seemingly to himself, Aya climbed back into the front seat. He remained silent as the others piled in and Hakkai started jeep up again. Instead of the peace the lack of argument should have brought, only a tense, untrusting silence hung in the air. Questions of both the new man's skills and morals pressed heavily on both Goku and Hakkai.

However, he didn't seem intent on using those skills unless pushed to the limits of his patience. Hakkai had a feeling that if he were a spy or an assassin, they'd already be dead. Only this evening would tell. Hakkai would have to keep watch to make sure they weren't murdered in their sleep.

He wondered, idly, where Sanzo was at the moment, and whether or not he was alright. If anything had happened to the monk, there would be hell to pay. The healer clenched his hands around the wheel in a white knuckled grip while Goku idly watched the trees fly by in a bored fashion. Aya continued to read the paper.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooooOOOoooOOO

Whew! Ok, another update. This gets harder to write every chapter. If it's getting dull, just let me know. Now that things have settled a bit, I'm hoping they'll start picking up. (I.e. Sanzo and Ran get corrected only to have someone else switch on them—eventually leading into chaos, I hope.)

Jan a for now!


	4. Where the Hell Did THAT Come From?

_**Trading Spaces**_

_**Chapter 4 :**_

**_Where the Hell Did_ That_ Come From?_**

He was tired. So damn tired. This whole bloody mishap seemed to be headed straight to hell. He'd been banished from the flower shop after his first hour, deemed a force worse than Ken at his absolute _worst_. Apparently that was saying something. Judging by the fact that in the hour he'd _been_ in the flower shop Ken had broken two pots and nearly dropped a large fichus tree after picking it up when it was too heavy for him, being declared worse than Ken was a major insult. It wasn't _his_ fault he didn't know jack about being a florist. He had some of Aya's flimsy memories to go on, and not much else. Who'd have thought that extinguishing his cigarette butts in the pot of geraniums next to the register was a bad thing to do? Really, Sanzo extinguished his cigarettes in foliage all the time. It was just leaves and paper. Didn't that make good fertilizer?

But at least now he didn't have to work. Or go to the doctor's. The youth whose name he'd learned was Omi had led him up into his own apartment and backed out cautiously with instructions that he yell should he need _anything_ at all. The implied idea was that Sanzo shouldn't leave the premises. If he'd had anywhere to go, he'd have gone already, just to spite them. Certainly, Aya's surface memory contained knowledge of parks and coffee shops, but Sanzo had seen glimpses of a great city beyond the flower shop window, and he had no desire to tempt fate by running out into the crush, no matter how pissed off he was.

And he was, royally, pissed-off. Royally. Kanzeon Bosatsu was going to _pay_ for this. Dearly. The man called Yohji had been generous enough to donate several packs of cigarettes when he'd learned that Sanzo was addicted to nicotine, with a flippant comment along the lines of 'gotta help a brother out'. Whatever. Ken looked alarmed at the idea that he was going to be smoking, but a well placed glare seemed enough to quiet him. For now. Sanzo didn't doubt that he'd be back later.

There was interesting food in Aya's place, a lot of marine-type creatures, and it was quiet, the light pleasantly diffused. Sanzo had poked around idly, looking at books and what not, and trying to piece together the life of his counter part. After all, if he was going to be sharing the man's body, he had some right to know, didn't he? Sanzo scowled at the thought of another man poking through his own sore, painful memories. Dammit. Someone had better fix this mess, and _soon_. He was getting tired of being treated like a mental patient, and he sure as hell was getting grumpy about the fact that someone else was in his body, with his gun, and, gods help them all, the _sutra_. He hoped that one of those idiots had the presence of mind to get the sutra away from him. Or whoever was in his body, anyways.

Idly, Sanzo found himself thinking of Goku. He wondered how the saru was faring. After all, if he wasn't around to discipline the damn chimp, who else was going to do it? And suddenly, Sanzo was a bit more eager to have this mess straightened out. With a sigh, he flopped back onto the simple, pristine bed. The bed conspicuously absent of any annoying, clingy brunet lovers.

Last night he'd absolutely denied Ken entrance to his apartment. There was no _way_ he was dealing with that if he didn't have to. The brunet hadn't wanted to sleep in his bed so much as he'd wanted to keep an eye on him and make sure that he didn't 'hurt' Ran's body in anyway. Snorting, the monk inhaled deeply on his cigarette. Stupid bastard.

But that had been a whole morning and evening ago, and as much as he hated to admit it, Sanzo was getting _bored_. Big time. Most of the books Aya owned were written in languages that the monk had never heard of, let alone read. There had been one or two books in a scholar's Chinese that he _vaguely_ recognized, one of them being some nonsense about the _Tao_, and another being some kind of tail about a monk, a monkey, a pig, and a water dragon. He hadn't read the rudimentary introduction beyond that. Although somehow the premise seemed familiar.

After that, there was nothing. He'd tried to read the newspaper from what appeared to be the day he'd probably been shoved into this god-forsaken reality, but again, it was in a language he'd hardly understood. He'd recognized some of the characters well enough, but their placing made no sense to him; utter gibberish.

As far as he could tell, he'd been in this reality for three days. _Three days_, without so much as a by-your-leave from anyone, including the old hag herself. Three damn days he'd sat in this place, picking at food, listening to a strange language on the radio, rifling through books and the occasional magazine. The highlight of his torment had been the discovery of an art book with a title written in strange characters he'd never seen before. Inside, there were smooth, page-sized pictures of distorted and tortured images that made no sense; watches, warped and limp, animals with long, skinny legs-impossibly tall, faces that _looked_ humanoid, but like no interpretation of humans he'd ever seen. After about twenty minutes of being fascinated in a borderline disgusted manner, Sanzo had closed the book with an audible snap and shoved it back in it's place on the shelf. He hadn't liked the way it had resonated with something inside of him.

He was in his third round of pacing and chain smoking, when he finally spied _it_ in the corner. Leaning against the wall, propped there so innocently, black and then and shining dully. Blaming the boredom, the monk stalked over and crouched before it, not touching, but leaning in carefully, like a stray animal sniffing warily at the prospect of a full supper. It felt….well, Sanzo didn't know _how_ to explain the feeling, only that it _had_ a feeling. Maybe mildly like demon magic, with the exception that it didn't feel _evil_ persay; more _dark_ and _morbid_.

His fingers were grasping the tip of it before he could blink or understand what he was doing. A jolt of sensation shot up his arm as his fingers touched cold metal of what the monk now understood to be a sword. His hand grasped the slim hilt, and he was assaulted by a nightmare vision in blacks and reds, roaring and screaming filling his ears.

Panting, Sanzo jolted backwards, coming-to to find himself sprawled on his ass, the sword innocently tipped on it's side, hilt facing him. Scooting backwards a bit, the priest scowled in thought, lighting another cigarette. So the damn pansy kept a demonic sword in his room? Did he wield it? Could he? Sanzo eyed the weapon with ill-concealed suspicion. Carefully, he reached out, wrapping pale fingers around the hilt once more. He closed his mind ruthlessly against the light show this time, and slowly, carefully, pulled the blade from the scabbard. This time, he was unable to stop the vision that assaulted his brain.

_It was raining; pouring. Always raining, always the same. He lay, paralyzed, in pain, pinned beneath the rubble of what had been his own home only scant minutes ago. _

_And **Aya**. Aya was there too. Always the same. Always coming for him, reaching out to him. Always he struggled; against the pain, to freedom, to save her. To save her from the demons, from himself. _

_And always, he would hear the roar of well-oiled gears, fine-quality machinery purring and crooning so deceptively. Always he would call out to her, reaching and reaching while she seemed to fly farther and farther away. _

_Always, she looked up, paralyzed in the oncoming headlights. _

_And always, he would hear her screaming, see that body, that beautiful body, those brilliant, vibrant eyes, flying, falling, dying. And she would land, so close and yet so far, with a sound that vibrated through the ground and into his heart. _

_And always, the monster drove away. _

_And left him. _

_In the pouring rain. _

_And the silence. _

_Ran Fujimiya threw his head back, and screamed as he died. _

_To be reborn again._

_In blood. _

_Alone._

When Sanzo was thrust back into himself, he came-to violently, gasping like he hadn't been breathing for several minutes. Perhaps he hadn't. A sharp pain had him looking down, and he started at the sight of his own blood. Hastily, he dropped the sword as he recognized that he'd been gripping the blade tightly.

Cursing, Sanzo turned, rising to clean himself up when the door chose that precise moment to unlock itself and open. Ken stood on the other side, a cocky grin spread across his features.

"_Knew_ those were a spare set of keys…" he muttered to himself, tucking a large key-ring into his pocket. He turned just in time to see Sanzo standing in the front hall on his way to the bathroom, Ran's violet eyes wide and startled in an expression Ken rarely saw unless his lover felt vulnerable and unsure about something. His eyes traced down at a small _'splat'_ sound to find the man bleeding. The sight of his lover's hand red and injured moved Ken into action.

"Shit! What the hell is _wrong_ with you? I said not to hurt him! Isn't smoking enough?" before Sanzo could answer, he found himself shoved roughly and hurriedly into the bathroom where somehow Ken managed to shove him so that he sat on the toilet seat. (Another fine invention Sanzo hadn't seen before, but thoroughly appreciated. He did not, however, like the fact that the seat was heated…)

"What the hell do you think you're _doing_?" the monk hissed. But Ken was already pulling down the first aid kit and opening it up.

"Shut the hell up. It's bad enough you're in Ran's body and _smoking_, I'm _not_ going to let his hand get all infected and further damaged because you have some ass-nine idea that you don't need anyone to take care of it." The brunet growled. "This ain't your body pal. I don't care if you normally take bullet wounds without help, I'm sure as hell not going to let you wreck Ran's body while you're at it. So just shut the hell up and sit still."

Sanzo fumed. He growled and grit his teeth. That was _it_. Balling the fingers of his free hand into a fist, he pulled his arm back and let into Ken's jaw so hard the younger man actually fell backwards, crashing into the door-frame. Plaster crumbled and dust drifted into dark brown locks. Relief was almost immediate. The monk sighed contentedly and leaned back against the toilet tank.

Ken sat up slowly, fingers tentatively prodding at his jaw. Wincing, and with a precise movement, the brunet grabbed it and lurched it viciously back and to the right. It made a sickening pop noise, but then suddenly looked much better. Sanzo frowned. He hadn't meant to dislocate the man's _jaw_ for crying out loud. Shaking his head and brushing the plaster from his hair and clothing, the brunet stood, wobbling slightly.

"Are you better now?" he ground out in a flat voice. Sanzo favored him with a slightly smug, bored look.

"Yes." he replied just as evenly.

"Good. Then can I take care of that?" the brunet finished, gesturing towards his still bleeding hand. Sanzo stared. Hard.

"Are you really _that_ much of an idiot! I just punched you and you wanna make nice and take care of my freaking _booboo_?" Ken's jaw ground tighter at the mockery, but he refused to rise to the bait.

"You wanna fist-fight someone, wait until you're back in your own fucking body. Now if you don't fucking mind, you _happen_ to be in the body of the man I _love_, and call me stupid, but I refuse to hit him when he's technically done nothing wrong. So you either let me see to that, or I fucking tie you down and do it anyways. And don't think I can't do it, because I _will_." So saying, Ken reached again for the first-aid box.

Sanzo said nothing. He figured he'd already gotten the guy pretty damn good, and if Ken wasn't going to fight back, then there wasn't any sport in it, even if he wasn't going to verbally concede. Besides, if the monk had to hear any more damn self-righteous, sentimental speeches, he might choke on the sap. And damn if having someone take his violence so seriously wasn't fucking royally with his head. Sanzo told himself it was the visions and left it at that.

Ken finished and rose woodenly, without a word, and packed the kit up. Storing it in it's place, he walked out into the main room. His body tensed when he saw the sword, but without a word, he crossed to it, pulled a small, white cloth from the shelf nearby and wiped the blood clean. Carefully, he sheathed the blade and pulled the sword to his chest reverently. He didn't look at Sanzo as he left carrying the weapon.

The door closed quietly after him. Sanzo cussed and flopped back on the bed. Before he realized it, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Aya had been dozing peacefully, the recently tense silence he seemed to evoke having finally strained his last nerve to the point that he was exhausted from trying so hard not to hit someone.

Despite his earlier trip into lala land, Gojyo seemed to take Aya less and less seriously, going out of his way to piss the stoic man off. Of course, all of this _after_ Hakkai warned him not to push it. Now, the healer gave Gojyo a warning _glare_, masked by a polite smile, as the half-breed was reaching out to prod yet again at the stranger living in Sanzo's body. This time, Goku joined Hakkai and grabbed Gojyo's wrist.

"Give it a rest dumbass!" he growled.

"Oh, are you sticking up for him now?"

"What if I _am_?"

"Stupid ape! He ain't Sanzo!"

"So?"

"So why the hell are you sticking up for him, dipshit!"

"Because he's freaking _scary_ when he's pissed off! He knocked you out! Doesn't that make you at _least_ little nervous or nothin'?"

"Che. _Please_. That little display was all show. And besides, I wasn't expecting him to be that ballsy."

"Freaking pervert kappa! He _knocked you out cold_!"

"He did not!"

"Dude, you were out for two hours!"

"_And_? I was tired!"

"Bull_shit_! You were _so_ unconscious!"

"I was _not_! Not for two hours anyway."

"Uh-_huh_…"

"And how the hell could you tell the difference _anyways_, you stupid chimp?"

"Cause I poked you all through the second hour." :snicker:

"What? Is _that_ where that bruise came from? You freaking little _shit_! That _hurts_!"

"Hey, don't blame _me_ if your pervert kappa skin is so delicate. Maybe you should hang out in the sun longer? Unless of course, your dainty complexion can't take it…"

"Are you callin' me a pansy, monkey-cub?"

"I didn't say it, _you_ did…And dammit! Stop calling me a monkey you pervert!"

"_Make_-me."

"Alright, I will. _Pansy_."

"_What_? Come over _here_ and say that, dumbass."

"With _pleasure,_ dipshit!"

"…." Alright, that was _it_. Reaching into his sleeve, Aya pulled out the lovely little object he'd found about fifteen minutes ago; a large, white, _harisen_. Raising his arm, he turned, and glaring at the two imbeciles in the back with the fury of Hell in his eyes, he walloped them both on their sorry, thick skulls. _Hard._

"If you two don't shut. The hell. Up, I'm going to make you _both_ very, _very_ sorry. Got it?"

Gojyo and Goku peered up at him, still rubbing their sore heads. Hakkai sighed pleasantly; the reappearance of the infamous harisen was almost a relief. Actually, hell, it _was_ a relief. It felt so….normal.

"What the _hell_ did you do that for, you freaking corrupt monk?"

"Ow! Ya didn't have to hit so _hard_!"

"Hn." was Aya's reply, as he turned around and sat back down contentedly, clearly much less stressed than moments ago. Although Hakkai realized that Sanzo's usually witty threat was missing. Oh well. One couldn't ask for everything he supposed.

In the back seat, Gojyo and Goku were sulking, arms crossed and facing away from each other. The healer couldn't help but smirk.

"Ahh, what a peaceful day it is." Aya snorted and attempted to go back to dozing.

It was three hours, ten arguments, and about twenty or so whacks later that the demons attacked. Aya was shocked at first. It was too surreal to reach his fogged-over brain. Sanzo's brief memories had involved demons, but seeing them himself was completely different.

The other three leapt out of the jeep and into action. They'd already gone through this. The best plan was for Aya to stay armed and ready in the jeep, but not to charge into the fray. Aya was just fine with this plan. He had no plans to accidentally die while in the body of another man.

Instead, he watched the others battle with a smooth, calculated gaze; occasionally appraising or impressed, but mostly a smooth assessment of abilities should he ever find himself against any of these men. All of them were strong. But they each moved so differently.

Goku, the brown-haired, golden-eyed youth moved wildly. His movements bespoke an entity who relished in the feel of battle the way a child relishes the realm of play. Instead of soccer or baseball, Goku's bit of fun and sport seemed to be battle, and he moved accordingly. All of his steps were sure, but just the slightest bit unplanned; the way a runner or offensive player moves towards a goal steadily, using any means to reach it, an almost careless air about him. He fought with a long, pink staff, tipped with a gold sphere at each end, and seemed to use it as more than a weapon; it seemed an integral part of his fighting style and movements.

Gojyo, fought with a staff as well, however, this staff appeared to be more of a glaive. Aya recognized it as a _shakujyo_; a weapon of Chinese origin, double bladed. On the bottom was a heavy, curved blade, almost similar to an axe blade, whereas the crescent blade on top was detachable; connected by a long chain to the main part of the weapon. Aya didn't know much about them, but he knew enough to know that they were damn heavy and often difficult to wield. The lanky half-breed fought in a manner close to Yohji's, with the exception that while Yohji often fought in a cocky manner, he almost _never_ looked like he enjoyed it. Gojyo, like Goku, looked like he was enjoying himself immensely, confident and arrogant that he was far more skilled than any fighter present.

Hakkai fought with a smile on his face, but appeared neither to hate nor love the battle. He handled his enemies in a business-like way, and periodically checked on his teammates to be certain they were doing well. Out of the three, Aya passed his guess that if angered into a confrontation, Hakkai had the potential to be most deadly. The polite smile did nothing to hide the razor edge to his movements or gaze. The green eyes were smooth and calculating, transforming chaos and spontaneity into a field of equations and probability statistics. Nothing moved past him. The man fought usuing some sort of martial-arts, and some-how seemed to be able to control his energy, manipulating it into cannon-ball sized starbursts of light that were capable of eradicating a great deal of the enemy at once. Further observation revealed the man could use such an ability to shield himself and others.

"Aya-san!" Aya jolted out of his musings, head snapping around to acknowledge Hakkai's yelling of his name. Too late. Something had made it past the healer and was headed directly for him. Without a thought, face ice-calm and stoic, Aya reached for the gun he knew was hidden in his robes, ignoring the jolt that slid up his arm as he wrapped his finger around the trigger. Without blinking, he leveled the weapon, and fired it. The demon running for him exploded in a spray of red and fell lifelessly to the ground, but Aya remained frozen, eyes wide and gun still hovering in the air as the electrifying sensation swept up his arm and into his brain, taking hold of his consciousness…

_Always, it was the same. _

_His Master's final wish granted, the demons stormed in, demanding the sutra. And always, Komyu stood in front of him, arms spread wide, sleeves pure and fluttering like broken wings. _

_Always, Koryuu watched, could only watch, while his master, his savior, his teacher, and his **father**__the only man who Koryuu had ever felt so deeply for, was struck down in a flash of silver and a spray of red. Always, he watched the demons leave, unable to move, to cry out, to chase them and take his revenge, his master's revenge, the sutra. Always._

_He simply stood. The pain too much to bear or understand, leaving him raw and numb and unable to interpret what his eyes had just told him; what his brain had just acknowledged, but what his heart could not understand. _

_And just like that, the darkness came. The silence settled. And in the split second before the footsteps pounded to the door, in the moment before the crime was discovered, Koryuu realized that it hadn't mattered. Nothing he felt mattered. Because he hadn't been able to protect the one that he loved. From the monsters. From himself. And in that moment, Koryuu died. _

_To be reborn again._

_In blood. _

_Alone. _

"Aya-san!"

Aya gasped deeply, like a man who'd just been underwater, and stared uncomprehendingly at Hakkai's worried face.

"Aya-san…?" Aya nodded blankly, feeling disoriented. The healer sighed in relief, and Goku nearly fell forward in his own relief.

"Oh man! That was _scary_! What happened! You ok?" the youth questioned, leaning into his personal space. Aya scowled and leaned back.

"I…don't know. I fired the gun and then I was someplace else." he said simply.

Gojyo snorted, lighting a cigarette. Hakkai frowned in his concern yet polite manner.

"Err….Aya-san…Was that the…first time you've killed…anyone?" he asked tentatively. Aya gave him a death glare for good measure.

"No." he said simply. The healer nodded.

"Then….do you know _why_ this happened?" he pushed. Aya's scowl deepened. He was so tired suddenly. It was making him irritable.

"No."

"Ah. I see. Well, if you're sure you're alright, then we best head on. I don't think sticking around here is a good idea."

"Hn." Aya grunted his consent and rose shakily, clambering into the jeep. Gojyo passed on the opportunity to anger the man, instead studying him closely. _Something_ had happened alright. And he was going to find out what. He'd have to grill Hakkai about it later. For now, however, he situated himself in the back and dug through his bag for the jerky he _knew_ he'd placed there the last visit they'd made to town. Ten minutes and no jerky later, an angry kappa turned to confront an innocent-looking monkey. Hakkai winced as World War…well, he'd lost count, actually, started. Thankfully, Aya had already managed to be sucked into a deep dreamless sleep before the argument _really_ got underway. Hakkai sighed.

He wondered how Sanzo would feel if _he_ started threatening the two of them with chi blasts….

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Wai! Chapter four finished! So busy with the going-home prep stuff! Hope Edo will be up soon!

Had some angst in this chapter, as a plot actually kind of came to me suddenly. Because honestly, there was no plot involved in this madness when it began. Just the result of one of those 'what if' questions that mean I have entirely too much free time. (Well, not any more anyways…) So hopefully the plot will finish developing. In the mean time, I hope you enjoyed this. This was the last Sanzo n' Aya chapter for now. Next up, Gojyo and Yohji. Hehe. Fun fun!

Ja na!


	5. Home again Home again Or not

When Aya woke up, he experienced a moment of brief disorientation. Instead of being stooped in the passenger side of the jeep and listening to Gojyo and Goku argue behind him, he was laying in a very familiar bed, staring up at a blank white ceiling.

With a start, Aya shot upwards, running a hand through red, blessedly familiar locks and squinting about himself in the streetlight filtering through his blinds. He was still in whatever outfit he'd worn that day. But he didn't remember putting it on. Frowning thoughtfully, the red-head flexed his hands in discomfort as he tried to figure out whether or not he'd dreamed the whole thing. He started when pain stabbed up his arm from his palm and peered down at his hand.

It was bandaged; in a slightly sloppy yet functional way that meant Ken had done it. Aya didn't remember hurting himself like this. And he certainly didn't remember Ken bandaging him. He always paid attention when Ken bandaged him. It made him feel….well, nice. Watching the top of the brunet's head while calloused, tan hands that shook slightly carefully wrapped gauze and applied medical tape. Followed always by the anxious 'Does that hurt?'. Even if it did, Aya always assured he felt fine, if only to see the happy relief in brown eyes. Sometimes, it amazed Aya that Ken could be a murderer. The man had been wronged horribly by this life.

And thinking of Ken—the brunet was nowhere to be found. A quick glance at the bedside clock assured him it was past midnight—the time that they should both be in bed. Together. Suddenly eager to see his lover, Aya rose and quietly left his own apartment. Creeping into the back hallway that connected all of their apartments, Aya made his way to Ken's and knocked lightly.

To his surprise (Ken was, afterall, a heavy sleeper…), the door opened immediately. Ken stood on the other side, looking grumpy and disheveled. His lips were pressed in a thin line, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes that indicated he hadn't been sleeping. Wondering what had happened to his lover, (and not with any small amount of concern…) Aya called out to him tentatively.

"…Ken…?" the response was instantaneous; Aya nearly wilted beneath the iron-hard gaze he received.

"Yes?" spoken through grit teeth, the reply was cold and angry. The stoic man frowned.

"What the hell is your problem? What did I do _now_? And why is my hand bandaged? It hurts like a damn bitch." he growled, anger rising in defense of the fear and hurt he felt at being on the receiving end of a gaze and tone usually reserved for their enemies. Ken blinked. And blinked again. Owlishly. His expression changed slightly, hope sparking through.

"R-Ran?" he murmured, unsure of himself. Aya crossed his arms, scowling.

"Who the hell else would I be?" he muttered. Ken made a funny sound that was halfway between a laugh and a cough and glomped him tightly.

"Oh Ran! Shit! Don't ever do that to me again!" and Aya found himself dragged into the biohazard known as Ken's room as the brunet mumbled incoherently about everything that he'd apparently missed. Including complaints of attitude and sleeping alone and smoking. Wait. Back up. He'd been smoking? That explained the horrible breath and queasy feeling in his stomach. He fixed Ken with a puzzled gaze.

"Why the hell would I smoke? Did something happen that I don't remember?" Ken made a face.

"You- you don't know?" he sounded upset. Aya's gaze turned into a frown.

"No, I don't. What am I supposed to know?" Ken made an exasperated sound.

" Ran, you were somebody else for three damn days! You don't remember being in someone else's body?" Aya gasped softly and went still. He…hadn't been dreaming? It had been real? Was he in some kind of alternate dimension? Maybe he had died and hell was fucking with him?

"Ran…?"

"I…I do remember. I thought I was dreaming." he murmured.

"You weren't dreaming. I've got the damn bruise and bloody sleepless nights to prove it." Ken growled, crossing his arms. Aya's eyes widened.

"Bruise…?" he trailed off before scowling.

"That bastard _hurt_ you? Let me see it!" Without waiting for Ken to reply, Aya shoved him to the only part of the house that wasn't dirty—the kitchen, and turned on the light. It flickered into neon existence with a guttered flashing that steadied into a solid source of illumination. Ken had indeed been hurt. There was a large, angry bruise marring his cheek and down along part of his jaw bone. The entire area was swollen. The red-head hissed a breath between his teeth sympathetically.

"Did you ice it?" he murmured. Ken winced as he prodded the darker areas gently to make sure nothing was broken or fractured.

"No…" he mumbled. Aya scowled at him.

"Why the hell not?"

"I was too pissed ok? I went out to the park and kicked my soccer ball around until like an hour ago. At least I popped it back into place!" the brunet growled back. Aya's scowl darkened considerably.

"Popped it back into….Well, we're going to take care of it _now_. And you're going to tell me everything that happened while that frigging bastard was in my body. _Don't_ leave anything out. You can't lie anyways, so I'll _know_. Then we're both going to bed, because I have a feeling we'll need it." Ken nodded, smiling.

"Together, right?" Aya looked at him, mildly surprised.

"Of course."

And Ken sighed in relief and let Aya lead him anywhere he wanted. Right now, he wasn't asking any questions. Somehow, Ran had been returned to him. He'd worry about the how and the why of it later. _Way_ later. Like after he screwed that lithe body into his mattress…

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When Sanzo woke up with a stiff neck and sore back from hunching over in a moving vehicle, to the sounds of Goku and Gojyo arguing loudly, he'd never felt more relieved in his life. The squabbling was nearly a welcomed sound. Of course, silence would have been better, but he wasn't going to complain. However…

"Che—like you can deny it you friggin' perv—your hair is _pink_!"

"RED, you god-dammned little shit, and if you call my friggin' hair pink ONE MORE TIME…."

"What the hell are you gonna do about it, you pink-haired pansy?"

"I'm gonna fucking kick your ass you little butt-sniffing monkey!"

"I'd like to see you _try_, you dog-paddling kappa!"

"I _don't_ dog paddle, you damn ape!"

"Then what _do_ you call it, dumbass?"

"That's not the point!"

"Of _course_ that's the point! You can't friggin' _swim_!"

"I can swim better than a puny monkey-punk any day!"

"Yeah right!"

"Bring it---"

And the argument was disturbed by a sound that was music to Hakkai's ears…

_BANG BANG BANG_

"You won't have to worry about swimming when dead—you'll float…" Sanzo growled, putting his gun away. Gojyo and Goku simply stared at him in silent shock. Hakkai began chuckling good-naturedly.

"Good to feel your aura again, Sanzo." the healer said with a smile. Sanzo snorted.

"I'd say the feeling is mutual but those two idiots back there give me cause to bite my tongue." the priest growled. Hakkai smiled sunnily.

"Ah-hah. I must say I've missed your fan terribly. The last occupant in your body didn't seem to have quite the knack of it."

"Ch. I'm sure he didn't, damn friggin' pansy." so saying, Sanzo lit his first blessed Marlborough Red and inhaled deeply. "Shit, this' been a friggin' week from hell…" the monk trailed off.

"SANZO!" said monk found his air-supply cut-off by one idiotic monkey. Choking on his cigarette, he just managed to grab his fan and wallop the kid on the head.

"DAMMIT you stupid monkey! Are you _trying_ to strangle me?" he yelled as Goku rubbed his head in annoyance.

"Well well, the great Sanzo-sama finally makes reappearance after his great _disappearing_ act. You wanna explain? Or should we just guess?" this from Gojyo, casually leaning against the side panel of jeep from his seat in the back. A vein pulsed dangerously on Sanzo's forehead. An eyebrow twitched.

"Death…." the monk managed to grind out. Hakkai laughed nervously.

"Aha ha. Now, now. I'm sure we all missed Sanzo. We'll be in town in fifteen minutes, and then we can all have a nice dinner and a talk together. Until then, please avoid getting blood on jeep's interior Sanzo." With a snort, Sanzo relaxed into his seat, leaning his head back against the headrest and falling into a light doze. Silence reigned; for once. And Hakkai could not have been happier.

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Things seemed to return to normal for a painfully short time. The morning after—well, the _afternoon_ after he'd mysteriously made his reappearance, Aya had proceeded to detail, in his own neat, efficient way, where he had been and what had happened to him during his 'vacation'. Each member of Weiss had digested it in his own way, and in the end, they had gone their separate ways, all the while considering the possibilities behind this kind of weird supernatural mishap. Aya had also left them with a final warning that this was probably not over, which had Ken clinging to his side like a leech in panic. Aya had borne the annoyance stoically, which Omi could appreciate. They'd all seen the rather ugly bruise on Ken's face at the meeting and he was forced to ice it all day, but allowed off shop duty, which he didn't argue with.

Things settled, life moved on, and there was a silent agreeance that NO ONE wanted to talk about what had happened.

But it seemed forgetting about it was out of the question. A fact made starkly clear by a panicked Yohji running down the stairs that evening and into the kitchen, pulling at his hair in a way they'd never have expected Yohji to pull at his hair. Ken, who'd been allowed reprieve from icing his jaw long enough to eat the kimchi soup Omi had made him, was tempted to drawl something like 'Watch the hair…' or something otherwise equally inane in defense of the playboy's uncharacteristic roughness with it. But he ate his kimchi in silence, the spiciness of the food slowly building into unbearable. Ken was too lazy to get himself a glass of milk.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" Yohji yelled. Omi and Ken looked at him calmly.

"That all depends on what you're talking about, Yohji-kun. I've just made Ken some kimchi soup since his jaw's not up for chewing yet. You know how much Ken-kun likes kimchi." the blond youth replied. Normally, what would have followed was a smart remark from Yohji's side about Ken's lack of 'good taste' (Yohji _hated_ kimchi…), but instead, the lanky man's expression turned exasperated.

"I'm in the middle of a crisis and all you can do is eat 'kim-mee', or whatever the hell that crap is?" the brunet bellowed. Now Ken and Omi stared at him.

"Uhh…Yohji…?" there was a slightly garbled sound to Ken's response, evidence of the fact that his jaw still hurt and was probably still swelling. Omi frowned at the brunet and then turned back to Yohji—maybe. After Aya, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"My name is Gojyo!" 'Yohji' yelled. Ken and Omi nodded at the same time and said "Ahh." Ken turned towards the stairs.

"Hey Ran!" his jaw made a small popping noise and Ken stopped yelling, putting a hand to it delicately. "Ow…" he muttered. Omi sighed in exasperation and got up.

"I'll get him Ken-kun. Go finish eating before you do any more damage to yourself." Ken scowled death at Omi but didn't argue back. The call of kimchi was too much for him. Although he did manage to get a glass of milk. He turned to stare at Gojyo thoughtfully while he ate. Aya had talked about the man called 'Gojyo'; a halfbreed demon (Or something like that…it seemed a little fantastical to Ken…) who apparently could have been Yohji's twin in many ways. Maybe this one wouldn't be so bad. Ken could handle an arrogant playboy attitude. Much of his serenity also came from the fact that Yohji was not his lover, and they also now knew that the problem wasn't…permanent. It also helped that they'd been expecting something like this.

Currently, the man in question seemed to have forgotten about everyone and was staring with a fascination at Yohji's wavy brown locks that bordered on slightly creepy.

"Ok, so you're _Gojyo_. To bring you up to the very basic, the man whose body you're in is Kudo, Yohji. But we all call him Yohji. The flower shop fangirls call you Yotan." Gojyo blinked up at him, seemingly confused for a moment.

"I have brown hair. Naturally. Wait….I have a fanclub?" Ken nodded at him slowly.

"Uhh….yeah. You ok?" Gojyo nodded and Ken continued to watch him warily. "Yeah, you have a fanclub. A sorta impromptu one anyways. Eighteen and over." This seemed to brighten the stranger's day.

"Excellent, excellent…Sounds like my kinda fanclub." he leered, sprawling into a chair, and it looked to Ken like he unfolded as he stretched long legs beneath the table. Finding his gaze on those lanky limbs, Ken blushed slightly before turning to look back up at the new comer.

"Umm….Ran'll be here soon I think. Any questions?" Yohji's new inhabitant smirked.

"Yeah. Who's Ran?" Ken bristled for a moment before relaxing. Even if Gojyo had been told about the rest of Weiss via Sanzo, he wouldn't have known Aya's real name. Especially since Aya himself didn't call himself by his own name. Ken highly doubted the red-head would have introduced himself to Sanzo's companions as 'Ran'.

"Aya. Ran is Aya. But don't even _try_ calling him Ran. He's Aya to you." Gojyo's smirk widened.

"And if I slip up?" he teased. Ken glared at him.

"I kick your ass _after_ Aya does. Do you call _Sanzo_ by his real name?" Gojyo looked thoughtful. Ken sighed.

"Just don't do it. It goes beyond teasing and into personal territory." Gojyo shrugged, and dug around in his pockets. He struck gold when his hand came out with a back of _Seven Stars_ brand cigarettes.

"Light-up outside man, or Omi'll kill you." 'Yohji' raised an eyebrow and shrugged causally, moving towards the door that led out to a balcony. Once he was outside, Ken let out a sigh. At that moment, Aya burst into the room, Omi hot on his heels. Ken gestured over towards the door.

"Having a cig." the brunet said easily. Aya nodded and sat down at the table.

"It would appear, " he began, gesturing for Ken to sit and stop eating standing up, " that I'm not the only one involved in this."

"Shit."

Omi summed it up nicely, Ken thought.

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Over dinner, and through a different sort of headache (Due largely to Gojyo and a certain loud, clingy monkey…), Sanzo related the things that had happened to him while he was 'away.' Including the suspicion of Kannon's involvement that was pretty much fact. All of the amused laughter and snide comments he'd had to endure during his prolonged period of torture confirmed it in Sanzo's mind.

Which brought the group to their next topic of discussion, that had caused quite a stir. Which was to say, that since Sanzo had largely accomplished and learned nothing while away, whatever was going on was not finished yet. They should expect more mishaps along the same lines, or other venues not yet considered, including and spanning beyond just Sanzo himself. Gojyo had made a noise of protest and Goku had out and out yelled about it, half in fear and half in rage. It had taken three whacks and the threat of a bullet to get him silent. They likely had no choice. Sanzo made that perfectly clear.

His next step was to relate careful details about the members of Weiss that he had learned, and connect which member of his party would likely wind up as who. He hoped the bastards appreciated his efforts, since he'd had no bloody warning at _all_. After that, he'd taken a cup of coffee, three back issues of newspaper Hakkai had been saving for him, and his cigarettes, and took off up stairs to his rented room for some much needed private time.

It was a good thing he'd bothered to do so. He got about two hours in before Goku burst into the room, followed by an apologetic Hakkai, who'd been unable to keep the youth from advancing on Sanzo any longer. After that, Sanzo's private night was pretty much shot to hell, and they'd all settled in for mahjongg. And even though he would never _ever_ admit it, even to himself, Sanzo had enjoyed the company; maybe even…_missed_ it. Although that might have been going a bit too far. Now saying that he'd missed his booze and cigarettes; that was something he'd willingly admit.

They finally went to bed (Read: Sanzo booted everyone out except his monkey of a roommate.) at around midnight, Sanzo threatening them with an early, grueling departure the following morning. There had been a collective groan as everyone realized they'd have to readjust to the schedule they'd been given reprieve from for a few days.

All except, of course, Gojyo. Who did not show up for breakfast. Nor did he arrive afterwards. Sanzo finally sent Hakkai up after the kappa, lest he go up himself and shoot the man instead. Goku enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, for once not having to worry about losing food to that lying, stealing pervert. Sanzo read his paper and drank his coffee in silence, breakfast finished, the vein on his forehead increasing in size each passing moment that Gojyo remained absent from the table.

Finally, some ten minutes later, Hakkai reappeared on the inn stairs, a sleepy, confused looking Gojyo following shortly behind. They both sat at the table, although Gojyo's confused expression increased. Sanzo's rant stopped mid breath, however, as he noticed the red-head only going for coffee, and lighting up a cigarette. He completely ignored the food on the table, and the fact that Goku had eaten most of it. Hakkai was looking polite in that strained sort of way that bespoke a man on the verge of loosing his temper.

Great. Gojyo had likely left the building, so to speak.

With a great sigh, Sanzo folded his paper and took off his glasses, vein fading away. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation at the comatose look on the kappa's face.

"Naa, Gojyo, aren't you gonna eat something?" Goku prompted, even being courteous enough to wave a bowl of congee beneath the kappa's nose invitingly. Gojyo turned a slight shade of green and jerked away hastily, coming more awake.

"Ahh…no thanks…." he squinted at Goku for a moment "….kiddo. I don't do food before noon. 'Sides, looks like you got it all under control. What timezzit anyway?" Hakkai chuckled.

"It's about eight am." he said evenly, bad mood beginning to fade at the spectacle of Gojyo politely declining food Goku was _giving_ him.

"Name?" Sanzo asked bluntly from across the table. He was glaring in irritation at Gojyo. 'Gojyo' blinked back at him and frowned.

"Well g'morning to you too, Happy. Yohji. I'm Yohji, if you must know. And I think I need to lay off the hard shit for awhile, 'cause this is one fucked up dream…" He trailed off muttering into his coffee cup. The liquid within disappeared within moments, but at least the man blinked himself a bit more awake afterwards. Sanzo waved a hand in the air in annoyance.

"Waitress!" when a young woman scuttled nervously to his side, he gestured with a nod towards Yohji. "Keep the damn coffee coming until he says stop." the girl nodded and scurried off, returning a few moments later with a large, steaming coffee pot. She poured Yohji a drink and somehow, he managed to smile suavely at her. His half-asleep look transformed into a bedroom look and the waitress flushed and giggled nervously.

"Here you are sir. Please drink up." she giggled. Yohji's smile widened.

"I'll be sure to, if it means you'll come back and refill my cup…." he trailed off suggestively. The waitress rushed off flushed and tittering excitedly. Sanzo face-palmed while Hakkai laughed good-naturedly.

"My, my, energetic this morning, aren't we, Yohji-san?" Yohji shrugged.

"It's a reflex by now. Can't help it. And none of that 'san' stuff. The kid calls me 'kun' and it drives me nuts. Just Yohji is fine."

"Alright then, Yohji. I'm Hakkai. I'm guessing this won't be much different than what happened with Sanzo?" Yohji frowned and took another large swallow of coffee, trying to force his muddled brain to work.

Hakkai, Sanzo. Hakkai, Sanzo. Why the _hell_ were those two names so familiar? They were important, he knew that much. Hakkai….Sanzo…_Sanzo…_.Wait….Hold on….Yohji pinched himself. Goku laughed at his expression, Hakkai chuckled in amusement and Sanzo glared across the table at him with something that _might _be considered empathy.

Maybe. Then again it could have just been the glare of morning light reflecting off the water glass next to him.

"Oh, _shit_." the playboy muttered, letting his forehead fall to the table with a resounding bang. The waitress scuttled back over with the coffeepot, but Yohji turned his head to the side slightly, waving a hand in protest.

"No thanks honey, I don't wanna be anymore awake than I already am…" she scurried off, pouting in disappointment. Yohji lifted his head and stared at the faces regarding him with no small amount of resign.

"Well, I'd say 'let's play spin the bottle', but that's rather high-school, and not really a good method of breaking the ice anyways. Does 'nice to meet you' work?" At his side, Hakkai gave a friendly smile.

"It's certainly a start." The healer replied. Yohji groaned again and put his head back down on the table.

"Shit."

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My many apologies for the delay, and THANKS for the reviews. I am currently making plans for my return to America in August (and departure for a week's trip to Tokyo and the Edo Mura in July leading up to the flight…), and combining that and school visits, I now have no life. Sadly.

In any case, for all my Edo fans, no, I have not forgotten about the story, and the next chapter is in the process of being written. Being a more serious chapter that will probably go longer, It's taking me forever.

Finally, my apologies if this chapter is excessively silly. I really have been heavily stressed the past two weeks, and it's starting to show itself in about all facets of life. Thank you for reading, and again for reviewing, and thanks again for your patience with my tardiness. Until next time,

Ja na!

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	6. It's black, it's white

Okay, here's another one. Sorry it's short! Enjoy!

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_Oh. **Hell**. Yes._

Gojyo's first thoughts headed somewhere along these lines as he entered the heart of Shinjuku, Tokyo. It wasn't just the lights. Or the gambling parlors. The bars, taverns, and high-class restaurants. Nor was it the clubs, snack-bars, or hostess bars. What definitely had the Gojyo seal of approval, was the many, many young women wandering around giggling in the shortest skirts he had ever seen. With cute spiky high-heeled shoes that made them all wobble in a slightly helpless manner. They clung to each other, tittering, purses and accessories jingling, shirts barely covering delicious expanses of creamy white skin.

He'd died and gone to heaven. And apparently, Yohji agreed with his taste in females, for many of them looked his way with fond recognition, waving and blushing at him as they sauntered by. He knew he must have been grinning like the cat that ate the canary, but _damn_ did he feel good. Sanzo hadn't known what he'd been missing when he'd stayed in his place all day.

Gojyo had felt too, at first, that staying put was the best idea. Yohji's memories of the world outside had seemed like an awful lot of noise and chaos. Too many lights and sounds for the half-breed to process. But then when doing a search of the other man's room, a small cabinet had yielded a selection of rather high-quality alcohol. Most of it Gojyo had never heard of. Some of it he had. He'd realized then that a lot of Yohji's surface memories made no sense because the man had likely been drunk. And once he'd figured that out, being a drinking man himself, things had been much easier to put together. Add in the small black book full of female names and a husky message or three on a small device on the table by the front door, and the last thing anyone could get the half-breed to do was sit around doing _nothing_. He was out the door as soon as the sun was down, finely dressed in the man's expensive, classy clothing.

_Fate_, he thought_ can take it's freaking sweet time for all I care…_ No monkey, no baldy, and no mother-hen. This was gonna be the sweetest break ever. And apparently, being a florist paid pretty damn well, if his wallet was any measure. It was packed full. Although dammed if he recognized any of the paper or coins inside. He _did_ recognize several credit cards, however, and he'd read Yohji's I.D. just to be safe. The language in this world was difficult, but the characters used to fill in his alter-ego's id were plain enough that even _he_ could recognize most of them. What he couldn't figure out, Ken and Omi had helpfully (and with a small amount of concern) gone over with him.

It felt…odd, not having red hair and red eyes. And somehow, he doubted having red hair or eyes made a difference in this place. It was something he appreciated probably more than he himself even realized. More than staring at green eyes and brown hair in the mirror. In a way, it was kind of nice not having to look at himself for a change. He got to look at someone else. And when he looked at that other person, fault-finding was a lot harder. Sin didn't stare back at him. Simply the face of an attractive man. Slightly sly and impish. It was a face that oozed charm and suggested that the man behind it could have anything he wanted if he plied for it the right way. It was really, _really_ a nice change, for once. Even if Hakkai no longer thought of his features as the color of bloody sin, Gojyo still saw it every time he caught his reflection in a passing window or pond-surface. It was startling to suddenly find himself stripped of the part of himself he'd most identified with. He was wondering how Yohji was faring in his place, forced to endure the consequences of events not his own doing.

Before he'd left, Ken and Omi had given him a run-down of the Shinjuku area, along with a few places he was to avoid; (No going to Roppongi or Kabuki-cho, wherever the hell _those_ places were…), where Yohji was in trouble with the staff or patrons, where Yohji was welcomed and often got drinks on the house and _many_ dates, and where Yohji generally liked to go. They taught him how to use the money in his wallet, how much it was worth, and how much Yohji was likely to spend in an evening. They didn't seem overly concerned that Gojyo had control of Yohji's wallet, and there was an undercurrent of tension that if he spent too much it would be something the other man probably deserved.

They'd informed him that they'd prefer if he didn't drink too much, since he was in an unfamiliar area, but assured him that stopping a yellow car with lights on the top and telling the driver where he lived (Kitty in the House) would get him home well enough. They alerted him that such rides were usually pricey, but reliable. Apparently, they'd resigned themselves to the fact that he was going to go out and get really drunk and generally make an ass out of himself, which made Gojyo think that it was something they were used to with Yohji. Aya had had little to say; he'd simply stood by looking annoyed, and threatened Gojyo quietly that if he did anything to get Yohji in serious trouble the next time he was in Sanzo's body he'd castrate the kappa. Since Aya was not a man that made idle threats, Gojyo had taken him seriously. And then, he'd been on his way.

Now, here he was, staring at some very fine curves as he sauntered down the road. There were other women too. Women who walked alone, in more provocative clothing, and eyed him up slyly the way one eyed up a choice piece of meat. It was weird, being ogled like that, but he did the same thing, so he wasn't going to complain. Besides, he'd learned how to curve his new, elegant face into a wicked leer that sent a clear invitation to anyone he was interested in. He'd gotten more than a few potential takers. Going on Yohji's memories and the talk from Omi and Ken earlier, Gojyo chose a small, three story bar that had been crammed between a department store and an arcade down a narrow, well-lit, shoulder to shoulder packed with people road.

Inside, it was dim and hot, bodies moving against each other in the smoky haze, attractive women and sly men everywhere. The place stank of illegal money, and several mahjongg tables in the back told him why. So they gambled for mahjongg, huh? Well, he didn't see why not. Grinning, he approached a table with an empty seat and turned a chair around, strattling it.

"Yo. Mind if I cut in?" he asked with a grin. An older man smoking a cigar handed him his pieces and the game began in silence. Already, he saw two women at the bar eyeing him up out of the corner of his eye, and his smile stretched into a grin. Yeah, this was shaping up to be a great evening….

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Yohji lit his fifth cigarette of the morning and looked moodily out of the passenger side of the jeep.

8am.

8 friggin' am, and not only was he awake, but he was dressed, unsated, and bouncing along in a vehicle that made him decidedly uncomfortable and nauseous. Goku sulked at his side, equally moody, although for entirely different reasons.

Yohji was great. He never made fun of Goku, or belittled him, or stole his food or cheated at poker or _anything_. He even showed Goku how to play really well, and how to spot a cheater. The kappa was gonna be so pissed when he got back, which was almost enough to console Goku out of his boredom. Almost.

Even though Yohji was so great, he was like a big robot zombie until after lunch. It made mornings in the jeep really hard to deal with, because doing nothing was _soo_ freaking boring. Casting a look at Yohji from the corner of his eye, Goku frowned again. The guy was so _moody_ until then. He got all irritable and half the time he didn't hear anything you said to him.

But other than that, Yohji was so _cool_. Except when he was teasing everyone with dirty jokes, or telling really raunchy stories. The raunchy stories were ok, he guessed, since they usually ended with someone doing something really stupid and then getting caught. But the jokes were kinda creepy. And Sanzo always got violent and then got this weird look in his eye. Hakkai told him not to pay any attention to Yohji's teasing, but Goku wanted to know what Yohji kept hinting at.

It looked like Hakkai liked Yohji too. He seemed pretty smart, and talked about a lot of stuff with Hakkai that Gojyo or anyone never really talked about. Goku could see the surprise on the healer's face when it happened, even when it was hiding behind one of his usual smiles. Yohji said he used to be something called a P.I., which was basically a person who solved mysteries and crimes, and Goku thought that was pretty cool too. Sometimes, he'd tell stories about those days, but he didn't tell them often, and when he did his face changed into this really kind of morbid, self-hating expression that Goku didn't think he'd ever seen on Gojyo's face, so he stopped asking Yohji to tell them.

He smoked less too, unless it was the morning, but when he smoked less Sanzo smoked less, which was pretty good if you asked Goku. It meant a lot less smoke in his face that he had to breathe in.

Yohji was pretty helpful too, although he got kind of lazy if he wasn't doing anything for awhile. Then it was harder to get him to do anything, like the energy just left his body out through the souls of his feet. Although he always played games when Goku asked. Which was great. And he ate a lot less than Gojyo, and never stole food, although Goku was pretty sure when Gojyo came back he was gonna be really hungry since Yohji wasn't really eating that much. Sometimes Sanzo had to threaten him to eat breakfast. It didn't make much sense to Goku since Gojyo wasn't nauseous in the morning and Yohji was in Gojyo's body but he wasn't really asking questions.

Finally, the jeep screeched to a halt and Goku was jolted from his musings by Hakkai's cheery voice announcing lunch time. Goku jumped out of the jeep with a loud whoop and took off to help the healer spread the blanket and set up the rations. Sanzo turned to Yohji. The playboy ambled out of the jeep gracefully, stretching fluidly in the sun and favoring Sanzo with a lazy smile.

"Yo." He said in greeting. Sanzo snorted.

"Glad to see you've finally joined the rest of the world." he grumbled in reply. Yohji just shrugged and sauntered in the direction of the other two.

"Yohji—" the playboy stopped and turned, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

" I know we've talked about this, but we're long overdue for an ambush any time now. I just want you to remember what we told you." the lanky man rolled his eyes.

"Of course I remember, Sanzo-_sama_. I won't be a pain in your ass, so quit worrying. It's annoying." Sanzo grunted.

"I'm not worrying. It's just a big hassle to have to explain to the San-butsu-shin why I'm down one traveling companion." Yohji shrugged.

"Whatever, I'll stay out of the way, fearless leader." He replied flippantly, sauntering off. Sanzo scowled death at his retreating form and followed slowly, feeling a headache coming on. He didn't trust Yohji. Gojyo's weapon was not a gun. It was a shakujo; a weapon often difficult to wield and keep in control. Despite anything else he though of Gojyo, the man deserved respect for wielding a weapon that heavy and awkward while making it look as if he were flinging around a twig.

In the previous town they'd stopped in for provisions, Yohji had purchased a healthy amount of razor wire using some pocket money the kappa happened to have in his pants. (Pants which Yohji made fun of constantly…). When asked about it, he gave an indirect answer. Sanzo didn't know what he was up to, but the metal wire Yohji had purchased was often used for far more that repairs or temporary bindings. And that was what he was worried about. Metal wire like that was a popular weapon for sneaky assassins. Coupled with the sword he'd found in Aya's room, Sanzo was beginning to wonder at the things occurring beneath his sight with their alter-egos. The monk was relieved to know Hakkai was also watching the man.

What neither of them knew was that Yohji was aware of every gaze and unspoken sentence. He was simply better at hiding his awareness.

But Goku was yelling for him now, and the playboy tucked a small smirk onto his lips, hands in pockets as he casually plunked himself down on the grass next to the enthusiastic youth. Despite the hardships of the trip, it had its positive moments. Goku was one of them. Most of the time, he was like a breath of fresh air in Yohji's stifled soul. A friendship the playboy would otherwise never have made in his own world. He was simply too jaded, too black.

He wondered, idly, if the sharp minds of his companions would pick up on his blackened soul. Gojyo may suffer for sins he had not committed, but Yohji was a man who deserved a greater punishment than the one he'd been given. He was sure he'd get it as soon as he died. But until then, it was an eternity to wait.

So he sat with Goku, chatted with Hakkai, and aggravated Sanzo. He pretended that he really was someone else. Someone who didn't have a heart nearly so black as his own.

The thing that hurt the most was the desire to keep things this way. He didn't deserve this new life. In the mean time, all he could do was hold it together for Gojyo as best he could.

The weight of his own soul would let him do nothing else.

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Whew! Another chapter out. Sorry guys, but with all my going home preparations, I'm a busy girl! I have hardly any time to myself anymore! Hope you liked this chapter. Sorry if my work is suffering because of my distraction.

Also, yes, the lightness and then angst was intentional. Yohji seems way more easy going and smiley than Gojyo, but I wanted to illustrate how Gojyo felt _freedom_ in Yohji's body whereas Yohji felt _burdened_ by the weight of his own sins. The way the two of them look at sin and past faults is interesting I think, and makes a good juxtaposition. Poor Yohji. Anyway, ta for now! Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews! Please keep it up!

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	7. Moshiwake degozaimasen

Urgh.

I am a bad, bad monkey, and I know that. I had no idea when I started these stories, that they would not be finished before my return to America.

As one might imagine, the preparations of moving from country to country are quite a task to undertake. Factor in that there is no internet at my house, and it makes for some grim horizons. Add on top of that that I now have only three office days remaining before my job will be over here. I've taken my remaining ten days of paid leave off. I need them, badly.

This is not to tell you that the stories will NOT be finished. They will. It's just going to take a lot longer than previously realized. However, I don't know if I can promise any new ones after.

Upon my return to America, I'll be moving in with my grandparents, who don't have PC internet. They have TV internet, which does NOT allow for the transferring and updating of files. Which means I'll have to try a library or something. In any case, updating is going to be significantly slower and far more difficult once I am back home.

In the mean time, I'll try to keep updating when I can, as I can, although it may mean short chapters.

Thank you all so much for reviewing and sticking with me through the tardiness. I promise, no matter what it takes, I won't turn into one of those writers that leaves their stories unfinished indefinitely. I HATE that. Most of all. So I'll finish these two arcs if it kills me. Just understand it's going to potentially take a lot longer.

Thank you again, so much, and I'm so sorry to disappoint you all. I'll keep trying.

Ja ne,

Aubrey


	8. Bonding

**_Trading Spaces : Bonding_**

Sha Gojyo—no, he corrected himself, now Kudo Yohji, staggered down the street gracefully at the ungodly hour of ten to two am. Apparently, Yohji had the same abilities drunk as he had sober, which was fine with Gojyo, as he was also quite used to the effects wrought by having one's limbs full of fine sake. Wobbling slightly, the kappa- turned Adonis rounded a street corner that he –_thought-_- looked familiar, but somehow as he surveyed his surroundings, he just _knew_ he was off-kilter. Yohji's own shallow memories mixed dizzily with his own, and Gojyo found himself following a misguided path. Not that he really cared. Armani rumpled (Yohji would have had a _fit_…), he was by far satisfied in all areas of carnality this evening.

Which was why perhaps, when he was suddenly accosted by two large, burly men on either side, and hefted to his feet unceremoniously into a near-by alley, he really wasn't all that concerned. Not even when they shoved him roughly into a wall. He did, however, get a little peeved when he felt his borrowed head crack against solid brick in an unfriendly manner the next moment later. When his mind stopped reeling, he realized that his jaw was throbbing.

"There's plenty more where that came from, you fucking pansy." one of the blurry forms near him growled quite rudely. Trying to shove the cotton aside in his brain and climb over the monumental headache that had begun pounding spectacularly behind his eyelids, Gojyo glared, squinting.

"Y' ga' pr'blm buddy?" he garbled, his attempt at sounding more fierce quite hampered by the booze in his brain and the lingering affects of some damn fine sex.

"Problem? You better fucking believe it, fucking pussy." the smaller one growled. Most likely the man that had punched him in the first place. The larger man seemed content to stand by in case Gojyo made any attempts at escaping. Furrowing his brows almost comically, Gojyo snorted.

"Do I g' t' kn'w wha' it is?" he warbled. The shorter man, shorter than himself although far stockier, Gojyo realized, leaned forward. Gojyo noted with eternal displeasure that the man's halitosis was triggering pre-hangover nausea.

"You slept with my woman, Sayaka last week. Where the fuck do you get off sleepin' with another man's girl? From the looks of ya, I'd say you'd be better off takin' it up the ass." He and the larger man laughed as if they'd shared a great inside joke. Gojyo frowned once more, sobering quickly. Ken and Omi had warned him about something like this.

"That's pretty damn rude of you. And if your 'girl' is sleeping around, I'd say that's your own damn fault. What'sa matter, you impotent or something?" He'd rather have been more eloquent than that, but Gojyo gave himself the leeway of booze muddling his ability to make witty comebacks. The smaller man appeared, in the dim shadows of the alley, to be shaking with rage. But Gojyo was pretty sure the big guy was smothering a laugh or six. Apparently, he'd hit upon a big issue. The fit streaking towards his face was indication enough. Sobering up quickly, Gojyo caught the strike with ease, blinking past the fist in his hand to the dark face beyond it.

"Don't you think you're comin' at this from the wrong angle man? SHouldn't you be trying to satisfy your woman?" the kappa asked non-chalantly.

"Already took care of her, don't you worry about _that_. She ain't gonna sleep with anyone ever again if she knows what's good for her." his assailant stated with confidence. The big man in the background shook his head and lit up a cigarette, momentarily throwing all their faces into the light. Gojyo immediately understood any woman's aversion to the form before him. His face was about as bad as his halitosis. And he didn't exactly look to be standing on the right side of sane.

Great, not even in Yohji's body for a full day and already he'd managed to find trouble. And it wasn't even like it was something he'd _done_ this time. Ugly and smelly leered at him, and Gojyo hoped fervently to forget the sight. His face darkened. And this man was telling him he'd hurt a woman? From somewhere in the depth of Yohji's consciousness, something stirred, ghost memories flitting behind his eyes like butterfly wings. The overwhelming urge to teach this man a _lesson_ for harming anyone of the fairer sex was overwhelming for a moment, and Gojyo decided that the whole free-access to each other's memories thing was not a comfortable thing to endure. Squelching the urge, the kappa agreed that at the very least, this guy could use a taking-down. Casually, Gojyo brought up a hand and examined his carefully-kept nails, noticing the odd calluses and scars across the otherwise flawless looking skin. He saw the man lunging for him out of his peripheral vision, and fast as lighting, leaned forward, burying his fist into a satisfyingly soft beer-gut.

" I suggest", he mummured, deceptively softly "that you take your problems somewhere I'm _not_." The man doubled over, falling at his feet. Gojyo stared expectantly at the large man, leaning against the wall and still smoking. Shrugging, the man walked forward, but instead of fighting, he simply grabbed his partner and hoisted him up onto one shoulder.

"If you like Sayaka at all, I recommend staying very, very far away from her." he said meaningfully. "For her own good." So saying, he turned, leaving Gojyo in the darkness of the empty alley. Gojyo swore, lighting up a cigarette, and then walked out to the road, hailing the nearest yellow car. It screeched to a halt in front of the curb, the back door flying open.

"Where to?" the cabbie muttered, not bothering to take the cigarette from between his lips.

"Here." Gojyo handed the man a paper with his address on it. The cabbie raised his eyebrows slightly but shrugged, slamming the back door shut with the automatic lever and screeching off into the night.

The lights passing over his face in a stripped pattern of light and darkness, Gojyo leaned his forehead against the glass and stared out the window with unseeing eyes. He knew, of a certainty, that any woman who would sleep with someone like himself, or most probably, Yohji, was a woman who knew what consequences she was playing with. But that didn't help that horrible, nagging voice that told him being a catalyst and helping those kinds of women into bad situations wasn't exactly admirable of him. Or Yohji.

Giving in to carnal desires was all well and good, but if you weren't careful then things got messy. He should know. He was a halfbreed of a mess that had resulted from his father doing much of the same thing. His mother was dead because of him. What else did he need to make things obvious?

With a sigh, Gojyo got out of the car, looking at the small red numbers of the meter in front and pulling out the needed sum of money. The cabbie seemed satisfied with his money so he turned and let himself into the back door of the koneko, preferring the indoor entrance to his apartment than the outdoor, where he was likely to run into other surprises. He staggered up the stairs with weariness more than anything else making him unsteady.

"Did you run into any trouble?" Gojyo jumped a mile high and turned an impressive glower on the man who'd interrupted his third go at trying to unlock the door. Half-melted into the shadows, Fujimiya Aya raised an elegant red eyebrow, all the class and sophistication that Sanzo didn't have when angered clinging to him like liquid. Pale skin framing nearly iridescent violet eyes studied him calmly, noticing the bruise on his cheek and marking it with little reaction. His rumpled clothes were similarly regarded.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." refusing to let his pride slip-up, Gojyo smiled cockily and leaned on the door, cigarette still caught between smirking lips. Aya was not fooled for a moment. Gojyo, like Yohji, however, would likely never talk about it, so he conceded silently to leave the man alone. Shrugging elegantly, the redhead turned to go back into his own apartment, leaving the hallway suddenly empty.

"Ice that bruise. I don't want to deal with Yohji's bitching about his beautiful face when he gets back." echoed from within the darkness of the redhead's apartment. A moment later, and Gojyo heard a faint murmur before the door swung completely shut. It was followed by a distinctively groggy "Ran…?" The door swung shut on Gojyo's widened eyes. Now what on earth were Aya and Ken doing in Aya's apartment at this hour? Finally getting his door open, Gojyo contemplated the possibilities with amusement. Reaching down, he grasped the clasp on his watch to undo it in preparations for bed. An action he would have avoided had he known the results.

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Yohji watched, idly, as his cigarette smoke floated upwards into the breathtakingly dazzling starry sky above him. It was beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Cold and deep and shining so brightly. So far and yet so close. A thin, insubstantial grey phantom of smoke made its way up to blend into what the playboy suspected was likely an arm of the milky way. Gods, if only he could follow it up there. He raised slightly olive-toned fingers, made pale in the silver light, up towards that brilliantly shining cluster of stars longingly. His face fell. Heaven was not for him.

With a sigh, the playboy idly realized that he could still not escape the remnants of his recent vision. He had avoided touching the twin scars on his jaw line since that moment, when he'd first discovered them. Thank the Gods Hakkai had finally gone to bed. While his worry was flattering, the brunet healer's probing questions were more than a little uncomfortable, along with Sanzo's sharp though irate glare and Goku's curious tugging. It did not help to lift Yohji's mood any that Goku had started calling him Yohji nii-chan. That was supposed to be a title for someone like Ken. A man so naïve and trusting his best friend nearly killed him—twice. And like Gojyo, the brunet man hadn't deserved it, and blamed himself.

What a fucking travesty. Gojyo hadn't really done anything wrong. But that hadn't saved his mother's sanity…or her life. And still the half-breed blamed himself. It wasn't like Asuka, who Yohji was certain Gojyo was most likely getting a taste of, one way or another. The now red-haired playboy could only hope that maybe understanding what it _really_ meant to be the one responsible for the death of a loved one might help to change the kappa's opinion on his own sins. Although Yohji would certainly preferred that Asuka stayed locked away in his own private memories. Which was one of the reasons why he couldn't sleep. The idea that someone was being treated to a front row seat view of one of his darkest sins made Yohji incredibly antsy. He wondered idly if it would be the one in which Asuka was shot in front of him, or the one in which he'd…

"Still awake?"

Yohji jolted a good mile high at the soft voice. Hakkai's soft laugh seemed to wrap around him soothingly in the serenity of a star-light stillness.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jostle you so." the healer spoke softly, the way an assassin treads on particular footing to avoid being detected. Yohji supposed the verbal tiptoeing was to prevent the ever-wary Sanzo and ever-snoring Goku both from waking. Shrugging in an attempt to regain his care-free attitude, Yohji smirked around his cigarette.

"Eh." was all he offered by way of forgiveness. Hakkai smiled in the darkness, the coldness of space pressing around them with a sentience that unnerved the playboy. It was just so—vast. Living in the city all his life, Yohji had never actually _seen_ the sky. Only pictures. "Did I wake you man? Sorry."

"It's alright. I never feel asleep." came the patient response. Ho boy. He realized that he had Hakkai's full attention now, and that the dynamics of this group were clearly different from those in Weiss.

There was a silent vow between them all in Weiss. You never dug at a man's pain. Similarly, unless you'd been invited to, you never dumped your pain on anyone else. They all had sins. They all had black hearts. The last thing _any_ of them needed was to deal with another's'. Perhaps with the exception of Aya and Ken. But that was different. Being in love, the two were the exception of the rule. Love had made them so much stronger. Strength had made them more concerned for their teamate's happiness, and in the following months, he and Omi had learned how to better hide their pain. Now Hakkai wanted to dig his up. And an intelligent and persistent man like Hakkai would be hard to evade. Apparently, the dynamics of this group worked differently.

"Er…a bit of an insomniac yourself, huh?" he chuckled softly.

"Perhaps." There was calculation behind the man's tone. _Great_. Yohji heaved a great sigh, running a hand through unfamiliar crimson locks and leaning forward. It was hard to tear his gaze from the dazzling sight above, but when it centered on Hakkai's serene smile, framed by distant purple mountains and that magnificent diamond-coated velvet sky, the playboy didn't regret the loss.

"Too-much coffee?" he persisted. Hakkai shook his head slightly, still smiling.

"Perhaps." Yohji grunted in frustration, no real malice behind the sound, and paused to grind his cigarette out on one of his enormous boot-bottoms before flicking it into the underbrush surrounding them.

"This by any chance have anything to do with me?" he ventured at last, looking back up at the sky.

"My, not only sharp, but forward." Hakkai chuckled gently. Yohji snorted again, but said nothing for a moment. Finally, he let his head drop back to gaze at Hakkai. Smiling in that lazy, self-deprecating way of his, the playboy pinned the healer with an intense crimson gaze.

"Pardon the forwardness, but why the hell do you care?" he drawled. "Is it really worth the effort over someone that's gonna be gone soon?"

"The potential for disaster is there Yohji." Hakkai informed him softly. Yohji shrugged, self-consciously rubbing at the place on his arm where his tattoo normally resided.

"If this is about the whole saving the kid with the razor-wire thing, then I'd have though at this point killing all of you would be moot. I almost lost my head and several limbs because of that, ya know." Hakkai shook his head empathetically.

"Not at all. I'm referring to yourself and Gojyo." Yohji blinked in surprise, and Hakkai pressed on. "I'm not blind Yohji. You're a troubled man. You think little enough of yourself to jump in harm's way over someone who is little more than a stranger to you." Here the playboy bristled.

"Goku's a good kid, dammit! And if you think I'd be self-centered enough to put my life above his, then you're dead wrong."

"Child though he may appear to be Yohji, Goku is a 500 year old demon. He can certainly look after himself. And he certainly isn't innocent. When Sanzo found him, he'd been locked in a cave for centuries, chained and warded by the Gods themselves. I think it's safe to assume he isn't a naïve teenager along for the ride." the healer replied calmly. Yohji let out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, I know, the kid can take care of himself." he muttered. Hakkai tilted his head.

"Please listen to me. I like you. You're interesting and somewhat of a kindred spirit. I also like Gojyo, as difficult as that may be to admit. Despite the fact that he can _never_ remember trash day, nor that beer-cans do not make good ashtrays. If Gojyo has any…'difficult' experiences while he is you, then undoubtedly, _I_ will be the one to deal with the consequences. Goku is inept and Sanzo wouldn't even try. Both you _and_ Aya have been hiding something, and if it's as bad as I think it is, then I'd better hear it." Yohji grimaced.

"Hey look. Gojyo isn't going to go through anything traumatizing or life changing anymore than any other ways he's been traumatized. I can promise you that much. As for what any of us may be 'keeping' from you, I think, as our right, we can keep it as our business. I really doubt you want to know what I've got up my sleeve. And really, it isn't your business to know anyways."

Dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks monetarily and Yohji caught the sight of a self-deprecating smile on Hakkai's face in the cold starlight. The healer ran a hand through his hair shakily and Yohji sighed, feeling the beginnings of guilt. Hakkai was only worried for his teammate.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? Just, my personal life is a bit of a sensitive subject, and—"

" You know, I've killed thousands. Murdered them, with my bear hands, with weapons, with chi. Over one woman. One woman who, despite everything, I couldn't save." the silence became oppressive, and Yohji floundered for a way to make the situation less awkward. The healer seemed to delight in violating all the rules of interaction he'd ever learned in his life.

"Look, Hakkai---"

"How can anything you've done possibly be worse?" there was bitterness in the tone. Yohji let out a shuddering sigh. Damn this man, for making him feel obligated, for filling him with the need to speak of long dead, although ever present phantoms. Asuka sighed softly in the far reaches of his memory, and he smiled wryly as Hakkai looked to be opening his mouth again.

" Yeah, so you couldn't save her. So you killed a lot of demons…." he began. Hakkai's smile fell, and he looked to be frowning in offended anger, but Yohji pressed on.

"I killed her, you know? With my own, two hands. That wire, that wire that possibly saved Goku today…it was a wire like that. You know what that feels like? She was struggling the whole time. Kicked me in the backs of one of my knees so hard it still aches when it rains. I fucking inhaled the same time she exhaled her last goddamn breath, Hakkai, so where is my excuse of vengeance? I murdered her _twice_. You couldn't save the woman you loved. But did you murder her? Was it your own hands? You kill the woman you loved on your own fucking back? I have no excuse for the things I've done. I'm not a stupid man, though I may seem like one. There is only hell for me—" Yohji was startled from his speech by the feel of gentle fingertips along his jaw.

"Very likely we will all suffer similar fates at the end of this path." The healer said gently. Yohji balked, pulling back, not wanting to see the sympathy in Hakkai's green eyes. He was supposed to have been angry, disgusted by the admission. Enough to leave Yohji alone. He wasn't supposed to be understanding.

"I doubt it." he replied darkly. Hakkai sighed heavily before him.

"Come, let us take a walk. It would appear Sanzo is starting to stir." Not wanting to do anything with Hakkai but similarly unable to sit still in his agitated state, Yohji rose with a grunt and jumped from the jeep, following Hakkai silently into the darkness of the wood. They came to a pause in a small clearing, and instead of verbally proding him again, as Yohji expected Hakkai to, the man reached into his shirt and pulled out a small flask.

"Will you share a drink, my friend? It appears we are both in need of one at the moment." With a grateful smile, Yohji took the offered container and downed the first, sweet swallow.

"Now that's _nice…_" the playboy muttered, flopping gracelessly onto the moss and staring at the sky once more. Setting himself down carefully beside Yohji, Hakkai chuckled softly.

"You sound so deprived." Yohji groaned.

"Some days, beer just doesn't cut it." Hakkai chuckled knowingly at that, and the two stared at the stars once more in silence. The cold of space seemed to wrap them in a soothing embrace.

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Argh, okay, another update. Sorry it's so somber, I've had a depressing song stuck in my head, and admittedly, I'm not quite sure where I'm going with all this since my mind is so occupied at the moment. So really, whatever comes when my fingers hit the keys is what you've been reading. In favor of updating, I'm not joking when I say I don't even have time to edit. This stuff is all pretty raw, so sorry about that too. Anyway, next, hopefully, is an update for Edo, hopefully concluding the whole Yanagi thing so I can leave off on a less of a cliffhanger between updates. Argh. Gotta go. Ja minna!

As always, thanks for reviews, and any suggestions for this arc are welcome.


	9. Ah! Hit the brakes!

Five beers, and four shots of tequila later, Gojyo lay awake and stared at the ceiling, arms folded under his head, watching the smoke curl upwards languidly. He fingered the watch on his- Yohji's- wrist lightly, shivering at the jolt of energy that surged up his arm.

He wondered just how Yohji had managed to kill the woman he loved _twice_. That was a pretty amazing feat, all things considered, and Gojyo had seen some pretty incredible things. Granted, the first time didn't really count as a murder he supposed, and when you thought about it, the second one wasn't _really_ the same person. The playboy might have had something to say about life crapping out on his counter-part, but really, just about everybody he knew had their lives crapping out on them, so it didn't make Yohji's anything special or different.

Initially, Gojyo had been shocked and somewhat sickened. He hadn't been able to conceive anyone who was able to kill a loved one, especially in so brutal a manner. Gradually, however, things had fallen into place more clearly. His brother had murdered his own mother to save Gojyo from her insanity. And hadn't she only loved him? Even if she had mistreated Gojyo, she had always loved Jien. And she had been all either of them had had. But Jien had done it to save him. And Yohji had done it as well.

Gojyo couldn't help but wonder how someone could do something like that and wake up every morning on the right side of sane. He imagined that if Hakkai's sister or Sanzo's master ever came back to haunt them in the form of an evil twin it would be the undoing of both men. He supposed it took a stronger person to bear beneath the weight and still remain standing. He wondered what that said about his brother too. He wondered what sort of things were going on inside of his brother.

He'd glimpsed the sort of things that were going on inside Yohji. And though his life had been dark, Gojyo couldn't help but think that like Hakkai, Yohji took his life far too seriously. Things happened. Languishing in the pain and the destruction of the aftermath wasn't going to serve anyone any good. It would only do harm. He wondered if there was a way to get that out to his counter part.

He wondered how his counter part was doing. Or what he was doing. Gojyo had a feeling he was going to have a lot of payback for a certain monkey that was likely taking extreme advantage of the situation.

There was one other thing that was bothering Gojyo. Something that although insignificant, the half-demon was reluctant to give his attention to. Really, what on earth had Yohji been doing that he'd had the opportunity and the means just 'come up' to kill an old girl friend? And how had he been in the position anyway to have met her the second time around? The memories had hazed out when Gojyo had tried to grab for the details, as if Yohji's subconscious was keeping something far more sinister from him. Coupled with Aya's earlier ease using a pistol and lighting-fast lethal moves, the puzzle slowly coming together in Gojyo's head was not a good one.

Although, it wasn't as if his own little rag tag group was completely innocent either. The toll of demon bodies they were racking up had probably broken some kind of record already. But somehow, the blood didn't seem so bad. It was a necessity, something that simply had to be done. You didn't get by with a big heart in a world like theirs. That just made you a big, squishy target.

But somehow, judging by the sinking, twisting feeling accompanying the hazed-out memories, whatever these men were doing was something that had a darker, more sinister feeling. Gojyo couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. Better safe than sorry. He hadn't lived for as long as he had by being stupid.

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When Yohji woke up, he was in a bed, staring at his cracked, dirty ceiling. His head ached like the devil, and his breath was absolutely foul. It seemed as if Gojyo hadn't missed a thing while in his body. Good to know he'd never be out of practice. Although judging by how ill he felt, perhaps Gojyo had pushed it a little far.

Moaning, the lanky playboy rolled over, adapting quickly to his own body. Unlike what Aya had described, Yohji had no trouble orienting himself at all. Perhaps it was because he'd already had an example to follow.

Trying to ignore the aching hollow in his chest over the knowledge of absence from Hakkai and Goku, Yohji rolled out of bed groggily and staggered into his bathroom. He turned the faucet onto cold, grateful now for the simple ability to have a fully-running water tap when he needed it, and cupped his hands beneath the flow. After a couple seconds, he took a bracing breath and threw it at his face, the frigid temperature of the water shocking him into wakefulness. It was about three seconds later that he realized Gojyo had had a midnight snack, which was exactly enough time for him to get from the sink to the toilet.

Several moments later, his stomach felt empty although he fared no better. With a groan, he got up, brushed his teeth and gargled with Listerine. He scrubbed at his eyes and then studied himself in the mirror. There was a bruise forming on one of his cheeks, and when he poked at it, it proved to be rather fresh. That bastard had gotten his face bruised. Somehow, however, Yohji couldn't even drudge up the energy to be angry. He was raw and sore in places that hadn't seen the light of day since he'd killed Neu. Any pain or injuries he'd received he couldn't help but feel he more than deserved. He wondered what Hakkai would think of that.

_Fuck_. What did he _care_ what Hakkai thought about it? Hakkai had less-than nothing to do with Yohji's life, no matter what he'd managed to coax Yohji into revealing about it. _Which_, the playboy thought with a wince, _had been entirely too much_.

Hakkai, Goku, Sanzo, none of them really mattered, with the exception, of course, to the body-swap. And the less they meddled in each other's lives, the better. Even if their counter-parts could claim the blood of thousands of demons, they couldn't claim the blood of humans on their hands. They couldn't claim it deliberately. As a job. That they accepted money for. They killed and destroyed, true. But they had done so on a mandate from _heaven_. Not that Yohji could really understand how heaven would sanction something like that, but he supposed the Gods and Bodhisattvas had their divine reasoning. He hadn't really been able to grasp the whole of their alter egos' little mission, but he'd known enough. The sacrifice of a few to save the many. A few thousand demons. A few worthless human lives. Like his own. It didn't help that nine times out of ten the Sanzo-ikkou had little choice in the matter but to kill or be killed.

Yohji wondered how long Weiss' dark little secret was going to stay hidden. So far he and Aya had made it. All that remained to be seen was Ken and Omi. Hopefully Hakkai wouldn't be keen enough to unlock Omi's brain. Goku, he wasn't worried about.

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Gojyo groaned, and rolled over onto his side. He was rewarded with several popping noises and acing joints, conducive to lying on a moist ground all night. With another loud groan, Gojyo sat up slowly in the moss and rubbed at his aching head. He supposed it was only fair, considering the state he'd left Yohji's body in. Hung-over, like he was now.

Oh man, Yohji must have been drinking something _terrifically_ strong for him to be in this much pain.

"Ahh. Paying Yohji's piper, I see." A painfully familiar and teasing voice called from beside him. Gojyo snorted.

"He'll be paying mine right about now, so it's only fair I s'ppose." He mumbled. Hakkai nodded as with some sort of inner wisdom.

"Oi. You two, what the hell do you think you're doing over here! Stop fucking around and let's get going! It's past dawn!" Sanzo's voice called from just beyond the clearing line. Hakkai chuckled.

"My, he's energetic this morning."

"I'll give him something to be energetic about…" the Kappa muttered darkly. Hakkai only chuckled again.

"You really must be patient with him you know. This week has been wearing him thin." Gojyo looked at Hakkai incredulously.

"What the hell? Like he's the only one!" the playboy growled. "We had to deal with the icicle in his place too. And getting stuck in some other guy's body is no friggin' picnic either. Maybe his highness Prince droopy eyes needs to freakin' deal for once. Either that, or he needs to get his all-high buddies on the line and pull some damn strings around here." Hakkai only shook his head.

"Somehow, Gojyo, I don't think the San-Butsu-Shin work like that. I certainly wouldn't expect Kanzeon-sama to." Gojyo frowned.

"Well, one of you two is next, I have a feeling, and I don't like what's going on. What was Yohji like?" Hakkai felt himself dragged back to the sight of a broken smile against a black, diamond studded sky.

"He was…closed off." The healer commented. Gojyo frowned darkly. "That's what I was afraid of. Something _else_ is happening here, and I don't like it. 'Kai, what do you think is _really_ going on?"

"I think that you two need to _get the damn lead out_!" Sanzo bellowed, punctuating the growl with several gunshots that landed just shy of where Gojyo and Hakkai were still sitting. Hakkai winced.

" Ah. I think speculation will have to wait Gojyo. Sanzo seems a bit out of sorts this morning." Gojyo said nothing, muttering darkly as he lit up a cigarette and stormed back to the jeep, following the brunet. Sanzo was gonna have to be more of a team player in this thing, or they were certain to get had. The playboy had an odd suspicion that there was another risk playing here that didn't bode well for anyone involved. And they still weren't certain that Prince freaking Kougaiji wasn't behind this either, though it certainly seemed to be lacking in his style.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooOOOooo

Omi was in the middle of a lovely wedding arrangement, tucking a few white orchids here or there (for a more _traditional_ flare), when it happened. Just as suddenly as he was brushing aside a fern with gentle fingers, he was suddenly behind the wheel of an all-terrain jeep, speeding across what appeared to be a desert-ish landscape.

Now this was interesting. Everyone else had fallen asleep first. Omi wondered why he had just simply been booted out of his own skin; in broad daylight no less. He blinked owlishly, and it took another half a second before his brain kindly attached understanding to the fact that he was, indeed, driving. Omi gripped the wheel in two hands and did the first thing that came to mind. He slammed down on the brake pedal, of course. _Hard_.

All of jeep's occupants went soaring through the air in a beautiful arch before landing face-first in the hot desert gravel. They weren't very happy when they managed to get back up, either. Omi had to blink again when he found himself suddenly looking down the barrel of a gun. He gulped and followed the line of sight to meet up with a pair of murderous violet eyes.

"You have five seconds to explain to me why I've got sand in my hair." Genjyo Sanzo growled. Omi swallowed again.

"Ahh…Sanzo-san! How nice to see you again!" he chirped, slowly raising his hands in a position of surrender. Sanzo looked at him blankly for a good five seconds before his expression went flat.

"And you would be…?" he grunted. Omi smiled cheerily. Unlike Hakkai's smile, this one was positively beaming with good will and sincerity. Somewhere along the way he'd learned to smile genuinely despite the hardships. The effect on Hakkai's face was positively breath-taking, and it sent everyone into a temporary paralysis. Sanzo couldn't help but feel that perhaps that expression revealed Hakkai's true age in physical years. So young.

"Tsukiyono, Omi!" the youth called, bowing and nearly hitting his head on jeep's steering wheel. Gojyo groaned and Goku looked half suspicious and half excited. Sanzo merely snorted and slowly tucked his gun back into his sleeve.

"Well, _Omi_, do you know how to drive this thing?" Sanzo asked casually, gesturing towards jeep with his chin.

"While keeping all the people inside intact?" Gojyo added under his breath. Sanzo shot him a glare. Omi blushed and looked at his hands for a moment. So it was his turn to swap. Lucky him, his counterpart knew how to drive an all-terrain jeep. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He wasn't going to be useless. He turned, favoring Sanzo with a sunny smile.

"Of course, Sanzo-san!" Sanzo eyed him doubtfully but grunted his approval, shrugging.

"Fine then, everyone in, let's go. " he barked. Omi cautiously shifted the jeep into gear and eased onto the gas pedal. It was then that the jeep made a noise. Not just any noise. A very distinctive '_kyuu!'_ Omi's eyes enlarged to the size of rice bowls, but before he could brake and send them all sailing again, Sanzo leaned over and firmly placed his hand on the boy's knee. Omi had no choice but to leave his foot on the gas pedal. And no choice but to hang on to the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip as they began to accelerate at an alarming rate thanks to Sanzo's pushing down on said knee.

"S-Sanzo-san!" he tried protesting. Sanzo grunted.

"We need to get there _today_ kid, not next week! " the monk growled.

"I'd like to sleep in a _real_ bed tonight!" Gojyo groused from the backseat. Goku growled at him.

"Hey! You HAVE been sleepin' in a real bed! Yohji's been sleepin' on the ground!" the youth shot back. Gojyo shrugged casually.

"Same difference." He said passively. Sanzo sighed heavily before Goku could respond.

"The both of you shut up so we can concentrate up here." he grunted. He'd moved his hand from Omi's knee and substituted a murderous glare on the youth instead to keep Omi's foot in its down position on the pedal. Omi was swallowing nervously.

"Concentrate on _what_ you perverted monk, I saw that hand!" Gojyo shot from the backseat. Sanzo felt a vein in his forehead come close to popping. Omi made a squelching noise and eyed the blond priest askance, looking for all the world like a nervous rabbit. Sanzo strengthened his glare.

"You so much as _think_ about slamming the breaks again I'll break _you_." he growled. Omi nodded and turned his eyes back towards the road. What in the Hell had he done to deserve _this_?

The drive seemed to stretch on for eternity. Before Omi realized, the jeep's headlights flickered on automatically, and the youth looked up in surprise to see a twilight sky. Up ahead, a shadow loomed, flickering with the occasional lantern or small fire.

"Thank Kannon!" Gojyo muttered from behind the driver's seat. The only sound from Goku was a loud snore. Sanzo's head didn't move from its spot on his chest. They rumbled into the village slowly, Omi not wanting to hit any pedestrians, and came to a rolling stop in what appeared to be the main street.

"Yo! Monkey-boy! Get-up, we're here!" Gojyo shouted, jumping over the side of the car and landing with a heavy 'whump' in the road, a small dust demon swirling away from his boots. Not a thing stirred otherwise. It was kind of creepy. Unbidden, a thousand horror-movie images started activating in Omi's youthful mind. He hunched his shoulders in on themselves and curled closer to the steering wheel as Goku let loose with a loud 'whoop!' and leapt from the backseat with the enthusiasm of an Olympic gymnast. Sanzo grunted and slowly stepped down from his seat, turning an expectant gaze on Omi. Omi squirmed.

"Uhh…shouldn't somebody stay here? You know, with the car? I mean what-if…what if no one's home?" he muttered. Sanzo snorted, shooting him an exasperated stare .

"Just get out of the damn car kid. We'll _find_ someone." That was precisely what Omi was afraid of, but Sanzo's imposing threat was far worse, and so the youth decided that maybe it was in his best interest to get moving, zombies be damned. No sooner had he set foot outside the jeep when it made that _noise_ again, that sentient noise, and exploded into a cloud of dust. Omi 'eeped' and leapt back behind Gojyo. Gojyo raised his eyebrows in response and took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"What is _with_ you kid? You need to learn to relax. S'just _Jeep_ for chrissakes." He grumbled. Omi favored him with a dirty look and reluctantly trotted out from behind his protective shadow. It was at this point that a giant white bat decided it was the perfect time to land on his shoulder.

"ACK!" the poor youth cried, flailing momentarily as he tried to dislodge the creature. A gunshot ricocheted off the ground near his feet and he froze, mid-flail.

"Knock it off!" Sanzo growled, tucking his gun back into his sleeve. Goku trotted over curiously, coming to a stop in front of Omi.

"S'just Haku-ryu. He isn't gonna hurt ya 'r' nothin'." the youth said solemnly. Omi nodded, and sighed in relief when the pressure of two sets of claws was suddenly gone. He watched carefully as something that looked like a cross between a lizard and a bat, only white, flew across and landed on Goku's shoulder, curling its tail around his neck. It made the same 'kyuuing' noise as the jeep a few times at him for good measure before settling in comfortably. Goku shrugged and turned around, trailing off after Sanzo and Gojyo in their search for an inn. "Hey guys! Wait up!" he called into the gloomy distance.

Omi shivered uncomfortably as he watched them, taking a moment to study. He could tell Sanzo and Gojyo readily enough by their behavioral and speech patterns. By default that meant the youth was Goku. He assumed the little white dragon was somehow connected to the car and the fact that it had magically disappeared. Although taking that extra step into assuming that the car and the dragon were one and the same was a little much for Omi.

He watched them all curiously for another moment longer before feeling a sudden chill crawl up his skin. A heavy fog seemed to be settling in around him, creeping upon the edge of the town and Omi shuddered before taking off at break-neck speed to catch-up. Something really weird was going on, and he definitely didn't want to know what it might be.

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Hakkai, like Omi, had been serenely in the middle of doing something when he had suddenly found himself doing something else entirely. He was so shocked that he wound up accidentally slicing himself up with a pair of scissors. Yelping, he dropped the offending objects and watched in shock as small splatters of red began falling upon the pristine petals of some lovely white orchids. He watched, transfixed, until a heavy hand on his shoulder startled him so badly he jumped.

"You ok Omittitchi?" That voice. Why did it sound so familiar? He whirled around a little too quickly, his head starting to spin. "Oi oi. You'd better watch-it chibi. You're too small to be losing any more blood." This voice was warm and languid with just a hint of teasing. When he regained his focus, Hakkai found himself staring at a man who resembled Gojyo if only in the energy that seemed to surround him. Laughing green eyes framed by shining, wavy brown locks complimented a pale, angular face that would have been any Adonis' envy. Hakkai swallowed and wondered why he was having thoughts like t his about another man. He watched the muscles of that prefect face fold themselves into a concerned frown.

"Omi? You ok?" he asked again.

"Yohji! Leave Omi alone and get back to work!" a voice bellowed from somewhere behind Yohji. Yohji ignored it, studying the face before him closely.

"Hakkai?" he asked, after a long period of silence. Hakkai found it in himself to nod. Yohji sighed gustily at the admission, running a hand through his hair. His eyes slanted to the side. "Ok. Let's get you upstairs so we can take care of that." he said slowly gesturing towards Hakkai's bleeding hand. He seemed uncomfortable, and Hakkai wondered why.

"Dammit Kudo! I said—"

"Yeah yeah, can it will you? The little one here isn't feeling quite himself…" At Yoji's remark, a pale face framed by shockingly red hair appeared over his shoulder. The eyes were vividly purple, and Hakkai recognized Aya instantly. What was it about people with violet eyes that made them so grouchy? Aya nodded and then grunted.

"Fine. Get him out of here then before the customers catch wind of it." The red-head conceded. Hakkai couldn't help but stare after him as he turned back towards the main space they were in. The healer recognized a flower shop when he saw one. Filled with young twittering females. That were approaching him at an alarming rate.

"Omi-san! You're bleeding!'

"Oh no! Omi'san's bleeding!"

"Oh! I took first aid! Let me see it!"

"No let me!"

"I'll look at it!"

"Someone get a doctor!"

"Oh poor Omi! Being a florist is so dangerous!"

Before the females could get any closer, an arm slung around his shoulder, the scent of tobacco and expensive musk drifting through his senses.

"That's alright ladies. We'll take good care of our little Omi-chan." Yohji's voice was deep, with a slightly nasal, slightly hoarse tone to it that had likely come from many, many nights spent breathing in smoke and drinking far too much beer. Hakkai let himself be steered around in the opposite direction to the disappointed tittering of the young women who'd been fawning over him.

"If you aren't buying anything, get out!" Aya bellowed. Another dark-haired young man Hakkai could only surmise to be Ken shook his head, gave the Healer a wink and then went about his work. Hakkai lost sight of him as they rounded a corner and he found himself wandering up a set of stairs.

"Our living areas are back here. We've all got separate doors leading directly outside, as well as these doors here." the lanky playboy beside him explained, waving lazily at the doors lining the hallway. "Here's yours." And still, Yohji hadn't taken his arm from Hakkai's shoulders. He dug out a ring of keys seemingly from nowhere that looked to be a master set and unlocked the door before them. Hakkai couldn't help but feel as if he were trespassing.

Yohji, however, seemed to have no such qualms. He strode through the doorway and flicked on the lights, tossing the key-ring down on the counter. Hakkai followed him warily, studying everything at once. At Yohji's soft chuckle, he looked over, startled. The playboy was shaking his head.

"Man, it figures you'd wind up as Omi. Brilliant strategists I suppose. Level-headed. Although I've always thought of Omi as a kid." He stopped shaking his head and favored Hakkai with a half smile. "Well, let's have lunch then, and I'll answer your questions." Hakkai wondered why Yohji was so eager to help.

"Ahh…I wouldn't want to interrupt your working, Yohji." He replied softly. Yohji shrugged and waved a hand carelessly.

"You're not interrupting me from anything I actually _want_ to be doing." He replied airily, opening what Hakkai assumed was a refrigerator and rummaging around. "How's yakisoba sound?" the lanky man called out, the sound slightly muffled.

"Ahh, anything is fine, thank you. It's very kind of you to take the time." The healer replied. Yohji came out of the fridge with his hands full and shrugged, smiling cheerily. "Hey, I'm hungry too." He said by way of trying to comfort. Hakkai nodded. He pulled out a chair and sat slowly, unused to this new, smaller body. Omi seemed so fragile. And so very young. Even though in reality he wasn't much younger than Hakkai.

"Omi still goes to school, you know. You'll have to take his classes. Unless we can talk Aya out of it. But the chibi freaks when he misses." Yohji spoke as he cooked, and Hakkai enjoyed watching him; his arms and hands move with the casual grace of someone who takes for granted that they are well in-tune with their space. He nodded in response, and then realized that Yohji couldn't see him.

"Ahh, that's fine. I'm both a student and teacher myself, always." Yohji nodded this time, and silence descended upon them for a moment, save for the hissing sound of the noodles in the fry-pan. Hakkai finally cleared his throat self-consciously, wondering at Yohji's odd behavior.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Yohji's form tensed, the movement almost minuscule.

"Er…you can probably plow through the flower-arranging, and I'm sure we've got busy-work for you in the shop. Omi generally gets a lot of homework and spends a lot of time on his computer. So all in all, school is the only major thing." Yes, Yohji was definitely sounding tense. He was nervous about something. Hakkai recalled Gojyo's unease at their counter-parts and kept it in mind. He was going to find out what had everyone so up in knots, and make certain that his own group wasn't getting involved in something too dangerous. In the mean time, best to keep things as casual as possible. He smiled as Yohji lowered a plate in front of him, still steaming.

"Lunch is up. Penny for your thoughts."

"Ah. I was marveling at how it feels to be so…small again." Hakkai remarked with a smile. It wasn't a complete lie. This body really _was_ weirding him out. Yohji threw his head back and laughed. Hakkai chuckled, feeling for the first time since this whole thing had started that maybe things would be alright.


	10. A Little White Lie

A/N: Hey guys, another update. If you're holding your breath for Edo II, I'm working on it, but it's far more difficult than Trading. So hold on and I'll get there as soon as I can. In the mean time, I'm sorry for the crappy quality of this fic. It hasn't been edited and I don't have the same concentration ability as before. I'm so busy all the time now…Enjoy, I hope.

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_**Trading Spaces 10, Half truths**_

Tsukiono Omi was scared. Not just any sort of scared, mind you. He was properly scared. The kind of fear one feels before he's about to be viciously murdered and then eaten. Perhaps not even in that order. All before becoming a member of the undead legion, no less. His helplessness with Hakkai's trademark fighting style was not helping him to feel any better. Especially every time someone else from his party leapt in front of him haphazardly to prevent him from falling into just such a fate as the one he currently feared. Although upon reflection, Omi supposed that he was only assuming he'd rise as a member of the undead. Countless horror movies seemed to agree. If he lived through this, the youth swore he was _never_ sitting through another horror flick, _ever_ again. It wasn't worth the two hours of having his arm wrapped around some female's shoulders – no matter _what_ Yohji said. And anyways, he usually wound up with a numb arm and an empty bed for his efforts.

A large, drooling, extremely nasty-looking demon shattered his thought pattern, nearly taking his head off before an exhilarated looking Goku came flying by to do the _reverse_ honors. Omi squeaked as the decapitated demon head rolled to a stop at his feet, leering up at him…well..._evilly_. He side-stepped the bit of flesh with extreme care, trying hard not to step in other unmentionables littering the floor from the battle raging around him. This was terrible. The youth cast his desperate glance about one last time for _some_ sort of weapon. Kritiker had taught him to use hand to hand, but when it came right down to it, these demons were coming too quickly or strongly for Omi to even consider taking them on without a weapon. Not to mention how suspicious that would look to the rest of the Sanzo-ikkou. He had a feeling he would have a hard time explaining his widely-varied fighting skills to anyone else who happened _not_ to know he was an assassin. Wielding a gun was common. He still was having trouble believing that Yohji had slipped enough to use _razor_ wire in broad-daylight. Omi was neither young enough nor jaded enough to claim any previous, seedy life, no offense to Yohji. . And even then, Yohji was only lucky that the Sanzo-ikkou likely didn't know what sorts of things were believable for such a life. Which really, didn't include having an expert and varied knowledge on the uses of razor-wire in battle. Although Omi couldn't help but wonder, given the nature of their counter-parts' lives, if the hiding of Weiss' nightlife wasn't an exercise in futility.

Dodging a flying arm, sans-owner as it sailed over his head, Omi spotted something glinting silver in the light. He hoped fervently that it wasn't a pistol, as he had learned early on that any pistol that didn't pack whatever the hell Sanzo's was packing was just not worth the effort. He took a moment to appreciate the fact that he should have heeded earlier instincts when they'd first come to a rolling stop in this awful town and the jeep they'd been riding in had vanished with a _poof_, like a magician's side-show act. Instead, he was now in the thick of a battle he'd never envisioned in his worst nightmares.

Certainly, Weiss had taken down their share of demons – demons which bore human flesh and identities. But none of them had been supernatural-- er, for the most part anyways, and certainly none of them had threatened the ingestion of Weiss. Although there _was_ that one weirdo….Omi shook the thought from his head and reached out to wrap his fingers around the hilt of a small dagger. _Excellent!_ He thought, as he scrabbled around, finding it's brothers. Well, now he was in business.

Casually, the youth sat back on his haunches and surveyed his surroundings, scouting-out any possible hiding spots. Finding the veranda of a nearby building overlooking the battlefield to be unoccupied, he scaled the wall with relative ease to the second story and rolled over the railing fluidly. Crouching down, he scooted to peer out between the railing gaps and took careful aim.

_There_. Something creeping up on Sanzo as the monk fired rapidly in all directions, cursing angrily, cigarette dangling neglected between his lips. Omi aimed and raised his arm. The dagger spun forward gracefully from his fingertips, forming a perfect circle as it arched end over end before coming to an abrupt halt in the throat of the beast. The demon clutched at the dagger with both hands before falling back lifelessly. Sanzo blinked in surprise and followed the line of the weapon back up to Omi's hiding spot. The youth did his best to wave airily beneath the suspicious glower the monk was leveling on him. Then the rush was upon Sanzo once more and Omi turned his mind to the task at hand, taking care to aim for points of deadly vulnerability, in order to ensure the demise of his victims. If you were aiming to kill someone, it was best to be sure they were dead the _first_ time.

It was some time later that the small group found themselves standing in the aftermath of battle. Omi cautiously crept over the veranda railing, but his moment of ninja-like ability was ruined when he lost his fragile purchase on the side of the brick building and tumbled into a cart below with a rather unmanly squeal. He heard Gojyo burst into laughter from somewhere above him. Sanzo, however, was having _none_ of it. He stormed over to the former cart and hauled Omi up from its ruins viciously by the shirt front.

"_You_", he growled, bringing them nose to nose, "are going to explain this ability you and your companions seem to have with weapons, _and_ combat, against all logical sense." Omi gulped.

"Um, can't this wait until we're someplace…more _comfortable_?" he mumbled. Snazo snorted, but was prevented from commenting by Goku's loud, lamenting wail for food suddenly. With a grunt, he released the emerald green linen of Omi's shirt-front.

"Fine then. Let's find ourselves a damned inn and have a little _discussion_. " he growled. Omi swallowed even harder than before as Gojyo snorted and cracked his knuckles in the background.

"Sounds good to me." He agreed. Omi had no choice but to follow, his brain working frantically for a solution to his current predicament. One that _didn't_ include running for the hills.

Tsukiyono Omi was _scared_.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

It didn't take Hakkai long to realize that _something_ was up with these people. They were walking on eggs around him and he couldn't fathom _why_. If there was anybody to be cautious around, it was Sanzo, and not himself.

But still, Yohji hadn't left his side all day. And surprisingly enough, Aya hadn't come looking for him, even though the lanky playboy was obviously skipping out on work. Hakkai knew enough about the silent red-head to know that that in and of itself was significant. He also couldn't get into Omi's computer. Not for lack of trying, when he'd had the chance, but the machine was password-locked and Hakkai had no inkling as to what that password might be.

Yohji's presence wasn't helping matters. The playboy seemed to sit a little too close, stand a little too near, and talk a little too huskily to be considered polite. The healer supposed this was likely a part of the dark-haired man's personality, but being the recipient of the slightly uncomfortable contact made thinking clearly on that front a bit difficult for Hakkai. As a result, all of his good-natured plans for investigating had flown out the window. He wondered desperately if Yohji was going to give him five minutes' peace so he could get his head back on straight. That he needed space from Yohji to get his head back on in the first place was telling of a problem that Hakkai was as un-yet willing to tackle. One that frightened him beyond any dirty secrets that Yohji and the others might be concealing.

Yohji sauntered over suddenly, and flopped down beside him on the bed before the TV, handing him a bowl of popcorn casually.

"With extra butter, of course." he grinned, crossing his legs and reaching across Hakkai's lap to dig into the bowl. Hakkai felt a faint blush tint his cheeks.

"Ahh. That sounds most unhealthy Yohji. " he muttered, feeling out-of-sorts. Yohji only shrugged.

"Hey man. You only live once. And sometimes you don't even get a long run, so you might as well do-up what ya got." he replied, digging in again. Hakkai shrugged in helpless response and moved the bowl to the bed between them, gingerly brushing across the top of its contents and pulling a few kernels into his fingers. They tasted heavy and greasy, but somehow the salty, buttery taste soothed his nerves. They sat in an awkward silence for a moment; awkward at least, for Hakkai anyways, when a sudden knock at the door interrupted their…bonding. Yohji's head snapped-up sharply, the good-natured, casual demeanor taking on a slight edge. It reminded Hakkai of a predator's behavior, when threatened.

"Yohji." the door opened to reveal Ken. The brunet looked uncomfortably in his direction for a moment, before fidgeting and proceeding with his purpose. "Manx is here. She wants to see you. She's waiting downstairs." he looked back to Hakkai and bobbed his head a little. "Er…sorry to interrupt and everything, but she can be kind of…umm… demanding." he offered by way of apology before ducking back out. Beside him, Yohji heaved a great sigh and tangled his fingers in his hair, the bottoms of his palms pressing into his eye-sockets.

"Oh _man_." he breathed. "I did _not_ need this…" Hakkai tried to smile at him reassuringly, but somehow the idea of Yohji catering to a demanding mistress annoyed him more than he wanted to think about.

"An angry lover?" he asked instead, his tone full of dry humor. Beside him, Yohji burst into raucous laughter, rolling over on his side. Hakkai was startled into silence at the unexpected response.

"Hah…sorry, n-no, I'd say more like _demanding_. " he replied between gasps. He didn't add that Manx was in no way his lover, despite many, many attempts at achieving the like. At some point it had lost its gravity and become a playful game of sorts; a means of lightening the tension usually hovering in the air. "Hopefully I'll be right back. Don't eat all the popcorn!" he called over his shoulder, getting up and tossing Hakkai a merry wave. The healer sat heavily in the silence that followed the door-slamming. It was odd; he always wished for a moment of peace, the silence to just _reflect_, but now that he had it, the room just seemed empty. _At least_ , he thought, _I can maybe do some considerable investigation before he gets back_. Rolling to his feet, that was exactly what the brunet set out to do.

OOOoooOOO

It was sometime into the night when Hakkai awoke to the sound of someone staggering down the hall outside his door. He was leaning over Omi's keyboard, and he stared at the letters blearily, trying to regain his wits. He'd fallen asleep in his quest to unlock some of Omi's memories, apparently.

He had been frustrated after what seemed like hours of poking through and running his hands over everything in the small flat, trying to trigger a memory flood that just wasn't coming. He wondered why it had been so easy for Sanzo and Gojyo, and so difficult for him. Finally, he'd settled himself at the computer, convinced the secrets he was searching for lay within. But he _still_ hadn't gotten past the password block, and he hadn't unearthed anything that had been even _close_ to the possible answers. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack. While blindfolded.

He winced when he touched his cheek gingerly and felt the raised texture that indicated he'd likely been snoozing directly on the keys. The password hadn't been unlocked for his efforts, or the marks on his face.

The thumping started again out in the hall, and Hakkai shoved himself up slowly, unused to the smaller, more compact frame he now bore. He staggered as a result of the over-effort, and righted himself against the wall as he made his way to the door. In the short distance he reached it, he was much more awake. Which turned out to be a good thing, as when he opened the door, Yohji came plummeting through it and into his startled arms

Hakkai blinked for a moment at the man hanging off his arms before his brain kicked in and kindly informed him that he did not currently have the fore-arm strength to bear Yohji's wiry, lanky frame. The muscles in his arms seemed to loosen suddenly, and he was unable to prevent Yohji's body from slumping ungracefully to the floor. Taking a brief moment to glower at the skinny arms still held out before him, and wishing that he had his own body to take care of things, he followed Yohji, kneeling beside the prone man.

"Yohji? Are you alright?" he began tentatively. A groan was his only answer, and Yohji struggled slowly to sit up, holding a hand to his head. Hakkai helped him as best he could, wondering if Yohji had gotten drunk. Given the last experience he'd had with the playboy, this was not an uncommon occurrence. And then Yohji lifted his head, and stared at him with a bleary, uncomprehending expression. Blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth. His cheek was bruised.

"Nnngh….Chibi?" he mumbled, his forehead dropping into Hakkai's chest. Hakkai's arms wrapped around him without thought.

"Yohji?" he breathed. The playboy didn't bother looking up.

"Hey…well…sorry t'…bug ya…kid…Gotta…a…a injury needs'mmedieate…'tension. 'At's what Aya said. N' you know….Aya…." Hakkai frowned thoughtfully, having the feeling that he was about to trip into the heart of the matter that the Sanzo-ikkou was worried about.

"Er…well…I suppose I do." He replied non-committaly. Yohji grunted, and placed his hands on Hakkai's shoulders, levering himself up clumsily.

"Well yeah. Anyway, kiddo. I think I'm gonna need some help. Sorry t' wake y' up so late…" he drawled clumsily. Hakkai's frown deepened into one of concern. How much blood had Yohji lost? Or was it a concussion? Placing a hand against Yohji's chest to brace him, he peered into hazed emerald eyes gravely. Yohji stared back unflinchingly. "…Hakkai?" he mumbled after a moment. Hakkai nodded slowly.

"Yes. How many fingers do you see Yohji?" he asked softly, fanning three out before the man's eyes. Yohji squinted and then winced beneath a visible headache. He moaned and put a hand to his head, his head falling onto his chest.

"I can't count that high." he muttered. Hakkai frowned once more. This was no good. It looked like a _serious_ concussion.

"Hmmm….let's get you to bed Yohji." he replied gently. Yohji nodded and they rose together with considerable effort. Hakkai stumbled the entire way back to the bed beneath Yohji's weight, but he didn't complain. He found himself wishing again for his own body, complete with his healing skills. He would have been able to immediately detect what was wrong with Yohji, and likely fix it. Or at the very least, accelerate its healing. The fact that Yohji was not in a hospital or at a doctor's was a bit telling. He managed to get the lanky man onto the bed and in a lying position rather ungracefully, but at least he managed it. It was then he became aware that a concussion was the least of his worries.

Yohji had come to him, or _Omi_ rather, apparently needing stitches. Many of them, it looked like. In various areas. It was also at this point Hakkai realized Yohji had exchanged his outfit for a black leather ensemble during the course of the evening. It somehow didn't strike him as a dating outfit either. The expanse of would-be creamy skin exposed by the midriff shirt was covered in blood; most of it Yohji's own Hakkai suspected. These were serious wounds. Not the sort a guy earned from getting into a bar fight. The picture coming together was beginning to make sense. After-all, if the Sanzo-ikkou were warriors, why wouldn't their counter-parts be in a modern sort of way?

Yohji moaned again, shaking Hakkai from his thoughts, and he rose quickly, kicking into action in search of some clean cloths and hot water. Obtaining both in rapid succession, he knelt back at the bedside and gingerly began patting at the mess on the playboy's stomach. Yohji flinched and tried to double up immediately, but it only took Hakkai's hand against his collar bone to keep him from curling away. The healer flinched himself, in sympathy.

It was going to be a long night, and likely morning, it seemed.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"Wait wait—so let me get this straight; you're trying to tell me that _weapons_ _practice_ goes along with _flower arranging_ in Japan? No way! I ain't buyin' pal." Gojyo crossed his arms decisively over his chest and glowered at Omi suspiciously. Along with everyone _else_ in the room. They were resting at an abandoned inn, eating rations they'd prepared in the empty kitchen. Omi swallowed and sighed. So far, his small half-truth was _not_ working.

"It's the _truth_." he muttered. "Haven't you ever heard of _samurai_?" Gojyo looked at him like he was crazy. Goku looked interested in the way he _always_ looked interested about something that could potentially lead to a satisfied stomach.

"Izzat some kinda vegetable?" he asked enthusiastically. Sanzo took a moment to look extremely put-upon before slamming the monkey on the head with his infamous harrisen. The moment ended with Goku rubbing his head in annoyance and glowering up at the irate monk from the floor.

"OW! What the hell was that for?" he growled.

"For asking stupid questions, damn stupid monkey! Keep your mouth shut!" Omi's moment of reprieve ended as Sanzo turned his full, angry attention back to Omi's face.

"What is this _samurai_?" he grunted, lighting up what had to have been his tenth cigarette within the hour. Omi sighed heavily. At least this was _partly_ the truth. With the exception that Weiss was perhaps more of a mercenary ilk, at odds with everything the Samurai stood for. It was ironic, that they still followed the traditional fighting styles in some way, and the significance of their day jobs as _florists_ was not lost on him. Killing the wicked indeed. Taking a deep breath, he put on a humble face.

"In Japan, Samurai are a class of warriors that follow a specific code, which dictates their lifestyle. It is thought that arranging flowers in harmony with one's natural surroundings is a way to attune oneself with the natural way of things, thus becoming a great warrior. Samurai did many things to bring themselves into focus on the natural way of things, in order to become better, more competent warriors. " Omi finished his ramble with a deep breath and a shrug of his shoulders.

" So wait – you're telling me that you believe you can be good warriors by arranging flowers?" Gojyo started laughing. "That is some of the lamest shit I've ever heard!" he yelled between guffaws.

"And yet, his aim was impeccable this afternoon in battle. And Yohji and Aya both , as I understand it, were no slouches in the fighting department either." The quiet of Sanzo's voice brooked ill for Omi. The youth squirmed nervously for the hundredth time that hour. "Why would you need to be good warriors, unless you had a reason to be fighting? The skills you have displayed are not combat for form; they are combat for _battle_. They are skills one would only see as a result of actual combat on a regular basis. You showed no cowardice in your attacks, Omi." Omi swallowed, wondering if he shouldn't be contemplating an attempt at escape once again. From his corner, Gojyo sighed heavily and stepped forward.

"Look kid. We aren't holding your skill in battle against you. We aren't trying to judge you for whatever sorts of personal endeavors you may be on. We're just trying to look out for ourselves, and that includes investigating all possible threats." the half-breed muttered. Omi sighed in turn.

"Look. I-We're _not_ a threat." Not _yet_ anyways they weren't. Omi fully intended to go on the defensive if Sanzo's group got out of hand. Although how well that would work-out for Weiss remained to be seen. "We aren't out to hurt anyone here. In fact, I'm not sure that there wouldn't be awful consequences for _either_ of us if our counterparts were harmed. I can't tell you _why_ we've got the skills we have. It's different from what you do, I can tell you that much. We just want to figure out what's going on and fix it without complicating or endangering anyone."

It was Sanzo's turn to sigh heavily. "The kid's got a point. We can't know the consequences of these fucked-up parings until something happens. So far everything's gone as smooth as something like this could possibly go, but we don't know in the long run what would happen under graver circumstances. The question now is how to go from here." the monk inhaled sharply, finishing off the rest of his cigarette. Goku shook his head.

"Wait, why can't you tell us? I _hate_ secrets!" he grumbled. Sanzo glared him into silence. Omi shrugged.

"Because I can't. It's in my own best interest not to." he replied. Sanzo narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. If Omi was right, and he had a feeling the youth was, then they were safe for the time being from any potential attacks from their counter parts. His gut told him that if this had been an attack, the enemy would have already struck when he and Ran, or Aya or whoever the hell that guy was, had switched bodies. Gojyo snorted.

"So what now?"

"The pieces are set. We have no choice but to play out to the end." Sanzo replied.

Unadmitedly, he was loathe to continue. Goku was next. And Saiten Taisei was an unknown quantity he would rather do without.

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Ni Jiyeni smirked and sat back from his computer. "Well Mr. Bunny, it looks like something _interesting_ is happening with our friends in the Sanzo-ikkou. I don't believe I've ever seen an energy flux like this. We'll have to look into the alignment of the planets and the magnetic fields these rips seem to be generating. It could be a way for us to explore entire other _worlds_. _Think_ of the _possibilities_…I wonder if we should tell her highness..." The scientist paused thoughtfully. Well, _maybe_ he would keep this bit of information to himself for now. Until he'd managed to play for a little while. Then he'd pass this oyster on to Kokumen Kyushuu.

"…My, what a _productive_ day."

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	11. In the Front Row With Popcorn

Well, another update. Again, sorry if it's abstracted, like most of my work these days, or if it's lacking that _flair_, but really, I just don't have the time, and sadly, I'm losing touch with the characters. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

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**Trading Spaces 11, In The Front Row (With popcorn) **

_"I'm in the front row, the front row _

_With popcorn _

_I get to see you, see you _

_Close up" _

_(Alanis Morisette) _

Hakkai released a heavy gust of air and sat back on his heels, blowing his bangs from his forehead momentarily. Beside him, Yohji slept fitfully on the bed, occasionally grunting or giving a soft groan. At least he was in better shape than he had been. The healer was sure he hadn't seen injuries that dire in a long time. Which begged the question as to what _exactly_ the playboy had been doing when he'd received such injuries. Hakkai had been up all night running himself in circles around the problem, and now, in the chill, pale light of dawn, he still didn't have any answers he liked.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door.

"Come in." he called softly, not wanting to disturb the man sleeping beside him. Sleep had come hard-earned, and only after Yohji had managed to explain to Hakkai that that was the purpose served by one of the many syringes in Omi's elaborate first aid kit. Despite his inability to use his energy to heal, the kid certainly had everything else covered. Perhaps the Sanzo-ikko could learn a thing or two from some advanced-preparedness. Although there was many a thing in Omi's kit that Hakkai had never seen before, and he wasn't quite sure that he wanted to know their use.

The door opened and a dark-haired head peeped through. The healer recognized Ken instantly. The brunet looked around quickly and blushed sheepishly when he spotted Hakkai squatting next to Yohji on the bed. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Ahh….Sorry about um….this…." he began, waving a golden-hued arm about carelessly. He seemed slightly more subdued than Goku, and somehow Hakkai found his current behavior endearing. It reminded him of the many times he'd been in the position of caring for Goku as a parent or older sibling.

"Oh it's no trouble." he assured the nervous young man with a friendly smile. Ken only seemed to look more uncomfortable.

"Uhh…ok. If you say so, but I find that kinda hard to believe. Let me get him outta here and then you can get some peace." Ken replied, trotting towards the bed. Hakkai raised a hand to stop him.

"No please. He's fine now. I'd rather if you didn't move him. It could cause further injury." Ken froze in his tracks and stood in the middle of the room, shifting his feet anxiously. After his first experience with Sanzo, he really had no desire for any repeat performances. Which brought him beneath the dilemma of what to do. Aya was unconscious on pain killers, and Yohji wasn't going to be much help either. Ken himself was tired and over-worked, and he hadn't slept a wink all night. He just couldn't think straight.

"Umm…." he began eloquently, rubbing unconsciously at a bruise dancing along one high, attractively angular cheekbone. Hakkai frowned at him.

"Are there others injured?" he asked slowly. Ken blanched nervously and started shifting a bit more forcefully.

"Oh no! Ran's ok. I took care of him last night too." he assured in a rush, waving his hands before him in a placating gesture. Hakkai narrowed his eyes.  
"And _you_?" he asked, raising his eyebrows pointedly in Ken's direction. The brunet blushed.

"M' fine." he mumbled. Hakkai's frown deepened, unconvinced.

"I see. What exactly happened, that I seem to be the only one to have missed out on?" he asked, a sharpness beneath the polite tone. Ken fidgeted further. The healer suspected that like Goku, Ken probably couldn't lie very well. He wasn't very far off. That open, honest face tried to close and failed miserably. Ken seemed to hesitate for a great amount of time before his answer finally came, albeit haltingly.

"I'd really rather not say." Hakkai nearly face-vaulted. Reading his expression, Ken put his hands out hurriedly again. Before either man could get anything out, however, a hoarse voice responded from the bed.

"_Shit_ Ken. You're a lousy damn bluffer." Yohji pushed the blankets back and struggled weakly to rise, ignoring Hakkai's sound of protest. He fumbled around on the nightstand, pulling a face when he realized that his cigarettes were nowhere to be found. "Now what the hell are you two yelling about, that you can't give a good-looking guy some beauty-rest? It isn't easy staying this handsome, you know. " Ken's immediate reaction was to curl one half of his mouth up derisively.

"Hey you lazy bum. Why don't you sleep in your own damn bed and leave this guy alone?" he snapped out teasingly. Yohji raised an eyebrow at him and Hakkai looked a bit perturbed.

"Oh my, he's fine, really—" the healer began, raising his own hands in placation when Yohji spoke again.

"Sorry bucko. Couldn't make it to my own bed if I tried. 'Sides, Hakkai is doing a pretty good job here." he replied, sounding as casual as he could for a man who sounded as if he were dying of bronchitis. Ken frowned angrily.

"That's _not_ what I'm asking you Yohji, and you know it." he replied, his hands curling into fists. Hakkai looked back and forth between the two as the tension thickened in the room. Yohji met Ken's agitated gaze with his own cool emerald.

"It's a little late for _that_, don't you think Kenken?"

"Well _fuck_ if I know! I'm not the one who showed-up in that kind of condition at another guy's door!" the brunet yelled back, getting angry. Yohji's emerald eyes spit fire, and Hakkai was aware that while Goku and Gojyo argued, it was never quite this heavy. He wondered idly if he was going to have to step in soon. He hoped not. The subject matter of the argument could prove to be informative.

"What did you _want_ me to do Ken? You were a little busy with the ice-prince, and the liters of blood I lost prevented me from remembering that Omi wasn't exactly himself when I needed him to lend a helpful hand. "Yohji bellowed back. Hakkai tried to ignore the way the electricity in the man's normally relaxed gaze made his skin tingle. Ken opened his mouth a couple times and then shut it, looking away.

"I would have taken care of you too. But it doesn't matter now anyways." he responded, almost too silent to hear. Yohji's gaze softened.

"Hey pal, you had enough to deal with. This was bound to happen eventually, you know, having someone else sharing our bodies and all." Ken flinched, his shoulders folding in on themselves despite the levity of the statement.

"Yeah well…" he trailed off, shrugging tensely. Hakkai smiled gently, leaning forward.

"It's really just fine. It wasn't a problem." he tried again. Ken pinned him with a look that was a mix of heavy depression, guilt, and anger.

"That wasn't what I was worried about really, but thanks all the same." he replied mildly, sounding weary in the deflation of his anger.

"You alright pal? You aren't lookin' so hot." Yohji interrupted. Ken shot him a glare, some color infusing itself back into his cheeks.

"I'm _fine_ dammit. Worry about yourself. I'm gonna go make sure Aya's ok." he growled, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He paused at the threshold. "Thanks…Hakkai." and then he was gone. As soon as his footsteps had retreated down the hall, Yohji was pushing himself into a standing position, weaving unsteadily on his feet. Hakkai steadied him, alarmed, trying once more in vain to ignore the thrills that coursed through him from simply being in close proximity to the man.

"Yohji, what on earth are you trying to do?" he exclaimed. Yohji tried to push him away, failing spectacularly.

"I've gotta go make sure Ken is ok. Aya too. They both took a couple hard hits last night, and I wanna make sure that they're both taken care of. Ken tends to be the kinda guy who'll bleed to death while he helps everyone else. Omi too sometimes." Here the playboy paused and levered Hakkai with an odd look that the Healer was certain had deeper meaning. Hakkai raised his own eyebrows in return.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" he asked, glancing meaningfully at Yohji's many bandaged wounds. The playboy scowled. Hakkai only offered a shrug. "You're quite injured yourself. Do I get a reason as to why I spent my night and morning sewing up the dire wounds of a _florist_? " here Yohji flinched.

"Ahhh…about that…it's…a rather _touchy_ subject." he began slowly.

"Well, I'm a rather _sensitive_ person. Yohji, if there's the potential for any of us to wind up in a battle situation, I think we'd like to know what we're up against. Honestly, you already know about our demon battles, so why should _your_ after-school hobbies be any different?" Hakkai replied.

Yohji choked at the badly-made retort, and took a moment to regain his breath. Finally, he looked up, catching the healer's deep-green gaze squarely. Sighing heavily and stooping his shoulders he turned his gaze out the window where the sun was dawning over the horizon with bursts of pale pink and orange. A reverse sunset.

"Hakkai…I'm not a good man. I know I told you that before, but there were other reasons. We…Ken, Omi, Aya, and I, we're assassins. But not like you. We kill _people_ Hakkai. Humans. And we don't do it for glory or God, although I'm sure we all have our reasons. But when it comes right down to it, we murder for money. There isn't any divine entity telling us to do it for the greater good. Although I suppose we'd all like to _think_ it's for the greater good. But those are just pretty words. Pretty words for an ugly face." when he finished his speech, Yohji didn't have the heart to find Hakkai's gaze. The room fell into a heavy silence and the playboy leaned a fore-arm on the window frame, frowning at the world below. He was startled by a light touch on his shoulder; a comforting touch.

"Yohji, the fact that what we do is expected of us by the heavens doesn't make it right. Those things that I did... All those demons that I killed…Yohji, they were people too. They're no different from humans. In fact, it almost makes things _worse_ since they're not even in their right minds. And killing all those demons…Yohji that made me a demon too. And so is Gojyo, and so is Goku. _God_ Yohji, Goku is a 500 year old demon with a side so dark that it takes pleasure only in the total annihilation of the enemy. Which is everyone who is _not_ Seiten Taisei. Sanzo is the only human among us, and he isn't exactly the most sterling example of a monk, if you hadn't guessed. So don't think that somehow we're better than you, or any less guilty, because we aren't." the Healer's voice was calm and somewhat bitter sounding. Yohji chuckled mirthlessly.

"How can you be so unconcerned?" he barked, burying his face in his palm. The hand on his shoulder squeezed.

"Is this the worry? Do all of you fear that somehow we'll pass judgment on what you do?" Hakkai pressed. Yohji shook his head, still not looking up.

"It's more than that Hakkai." Emphatically, he gestured down at his wounds. "We're worried about the hazard that a body-swap during a mission could cause. Weiss; Ken, Omi, Aya, and I, are constantly thrust into enemy territory without back-up. There are many times when one simple mistake could cost us not only our own lives, but the lives of our comrades. Would you wish to find yourself suddenly swapped with Omi when you're in the depth of a battle with Prince Kougaiji, in his own territory?" The hand withdrew here, and Yohji hunched his shoulders inwards against the loss.

"Yohji, you don't think that we're worried about something like that anyways? It's the same for us; a mistake can cost everything. In our case, it could cost the entire free-world. Why would you feel that we were any different? Both sides have chosen to make their own sacrifices to ensure what we can only hope is the greater good. But in the end, a sacrifice is all we can make, and that's the only thing we have to live with." Hakkai wanted to be annoyed. Yohji was treating the circumstances of his group as if they were separate or somehow greater than those of the Sanzo-ikkou, when really they were two sides of the same coin. But he couldn't be. He knew that like himself, Yohji felt as if his blackened soul made him more loathsome than even those he probably killed. He simply couldn't see that he was no better or worse than any of their number. The lanky man shook his head.

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point. We're so used to hiding…it's our instinct now, to protect our bloody little secret at all costs. We'd die to protect it. We don't have a choice." Hakkai narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Every man has a choice, Yohji." he said calmly. Yohji turned and gave him one of the most heartbreaking smiles Hakkai was sure he'd ever seen.

"Sure." he replied cheerily. "But for some strange reason I can't bring myself to embrace my own death yet. Isn't that odd? I can embrace death itself, but only for others. And I, who deserve it most." The healer frowned.

"Yohji. The act of killing is a judgment you make that the value of the life of the person you face is less than that of your own life. If you can still place the value of your own life above that of others, then perhaps you are not as worthless as you would believe." Yohji stared at Hakkai for a moment, and then opened his mouth, looking away. No sound came out however. He frowned at the window, a craving for cigarettes suddenly hitting him hard.

"I need a cigarette." he mumbled, turning to leave. Hakkai held out a hand, stopping him.

"No, you don't. You need to heal. You need to lie down, and if I have to tie you to the bed to make it so, I will." Yohji met his serious gaze with a playful quirk of his eyebrow, and Hakkai watched as the emotion that had swum along the surface just moments ago was pushed away and shut down. The shades of emerald lightened to jade, and he was reminded of a storm's passing, albeit temporarily.

"Hakkai, I'd no idea you were into that sort of thing…" the lanky man quipped with a little grin. Hakkai felt a corner of his own mouth turn upwards of its own accord.

"Oh my Yohji. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until after you recover for things of that nature. Surely you know that." he replied, enjoying the way that Yohji's other eyebrow joined the first in an amused shock.

"How silly of me. Best not push things." he managed, allowing Hakkai to get him back in bed. Hakkai winked at him.

"An excellent choice. I'm going to make some tea and see what Ken is up to. I'll be back. You'd certainly be wise to remain in bed. " the Healer warned, turning to go. Yohji watched him, trying to decode his body movements in answer to the unspoken challenge he'd just received. What was Hakkai up to? And how on earth had the man managed to get so much information out of Yohji _again_? He had a feeling that if he didn't find a way to get his guard back up, he'd never be able to prevent Hakkai from getting anything he wanted.

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Omi groaned, letting the back of his head hit the wall again. Gods, this was so _boring_. Across from him, Sanzo sent another glare aimed at silencing the youth. At this stage of his visit however, Omi remained singularly unimpressed.

"Why are we still here again?" he whined. Sanzo glared harder.

"I'm not even going to dignify that question with a response." the monk growled. Omi snorted and crossed his arms, looking away. Across from him, Goku lay sprawled on the ground, his head resting on one of Sanzo's thighs, snoring to wake the dead. Gojyo slept on the other side, away from them and closer to the door, grumbling occasionally in his sleep about 'dumb monkeys'. Sanzo would try glaring him into silence as well, but really those sorts of things tended only to work when the person was awake enough to realize they were supposed to be intimidated. Although Omi was pretty sure that by now Gojyo was even more immune than he was. Having Aya as a boss in the flower-shop helped. A good thing Omi himself was in charge of Weiss, or else things had the potential to be far more miserable for everyone. He pouted as he thought about it and prayed to the Gods there'd been no mission while he was away.

Sanzo watched as the would-be Hakkai's brown eyebrows knitted together in a puzzled, concerned frown. Since they'd settled in for the night, Omi had done nothing but think, regardless of how bored he claimed to be. The expressions he made while in thought were comical on Hakkai's face, and the priest didn't think he'd ever seen the Healer's eyes that large. They were so…_cheerful_. More-so than usual, and it was starting to make him ill. He wanted Hakkai back. And speaking of Hakkai, he wondered what other information the man was gathering. If he knew Hakkai, and Sanzo was pretty sure he did, the Healer was probably going to be coming back with all sorts of information to give them a better picture. Omi was honest but vague, and unsettlingly nervous. Although, the kid had been pretty jumpy since he'd first made his appearance. He watched as Omi reached up to adjust his monocle and gasped as his hand made contact with the frame. Green eyes widened in shock, before going blank, and then Omi slumped against the wall, unmoving, staring into nothingness. Controlling his initial urge to get up and jump to the fallen man's side, Sanzo waited and watched, Goku still snoring on his thigh, as Omi stared at a point past his shoulder.

The monk wondered if this was what he had looked like while experiencing the memories of another. In Omi's grip, the glass of the fragile monocle had shattered, Hakkai's pale fingers fluttering occasionally around the frame.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

Hakkai continued poking about in the closet, muttering under his breath as he went in search of the surplus first-aid kit which Ken had nervously divulged was in the hall utility closet. However, he'd been searching for nearly ten minutes now, and he _still_ hadn't seen anything the size or color that Ken had promised. He was finding everything else though, and a few things he was sure he'd never seen before.

He was also wondering if Ken had sent him on a wild goose chase. The brown-haired youth had been loathe to accept his aid, and Hakkai wouldn't be surprised if he'd simply sent him on a fruitless chase to be rid of him. It seemed odd to Hakkai that Ken should be so prickly and wary, given his probable personality. Sanzo had painted him out to be 'annoyingly' loyal, and Gojyo had seemed to feel that he was almost like a mature Goku; someone to pal around with. But the Healer had yet to see the easy, laid-back side of Ken, and he wondered at the cause of it.

Grunting, he leaned forward, straining towards the back portion of the closet he couldn't see, and had a few seconds to gasp in shock as his hand made contact with something small and sharp. His brain dimly registered that it was a throwing blade, and then his world blacked out.

It focused back in seconds later, scenes flashing by quickly, emotions and words flashing with them, and Hakkai struggled like a man under water to grasp them and commit them to memory. He was positive that this was a vision from Omi's memory, and the Healer was determined to gain any useful information he could. He tried hard not to think about Omi stirring a stick through his own memories as well.

He could catch scenes. A small blond boy tormented by what appeared to be kidnappers. A father refusing ransom. A rescue from an Uncle. From there Omi's life seemed to take on a stable course; he was trained to be an assassin. He'd been taught to be a killer, since boyhood. Hakkai watched, feeling ill, at how quickly and readily Omi had adapted to the lifestyle presented to him. He simply hadn't known any differently.

Hakkai's own life hadn't been spectacular throughout his boyhood, but he hadn't been groomed for a life of this nature.

And then, the formation of Weiss. _Weiss_, the organization that their counter-parts were involved in. Ken first, a comrade in arms and an orphan who'd had everything stripped away from him when he'd had so promising a future. Yohji next; an ex PI who'd been found shot and bleeding to death, after losing his partner, a woman named _Asuka_. Finally, Aya. Found on a mission and taken in after he tried to attack Ken.

These people were Omi's _life_. It was easy to see. And the memories that Omi held from the formation of Weiss on became lighter, happier. Despite the dark nature of their work. Born into killing, Omi did not have as heavy a burden of guilt as the others. It was, after all, what he'd been raised to do and believe.

In fact, aside from the vague, dark and disturbed memories of the kidnapping, Omi's memories seemed neatly ordered, with a matter-of-fact consideration. The under-currents of emotion flared or receded at certain points or events, but generally, the youth seemed to feel that Weiss was good, and that the fate of a few did not matter against the fate of the masses. Rather heroic and noble if Hakkai thought so. The young tactician considered his teammates the closest thing he had to brothers.

The Healer watched as the lighter scenes grew hazy again, almost as if he were watching an old, ill-cared for film. And then he watched Omi's torture at his brother's hands. The flood of emotion was almost overwhelming, a rush of old memories never resolved, pushing back to the surface after a catalyst of horrid proportions. Hakkai fought for control, reminding himself that they were _not_ his memories. _Kanan_ whispered quietly in the back of his mind, and he calmed. The memory seemed to fade and blur, mixing with images of a girl standing in sunlight, smiling, waving, or shoving a pot of flowers at Omi.

This too, ended in blood, as the girl named _Ouka_ died in the young assasin's arms. As his sister. Omi had been in love with his sister. And she with him. They had despaired when they had discovered the truth of it, and somehow, Hakkai faulted them for their lack of courage. Omi was so young. How could he know love in so short a time? How could he have been sincere in his sorrow if he had been so willing to give up his love at the first sign of trouble?

On the other hand, look at what refusal to back down had gotten he and Kanan. A lot of blood and gore and not much else. Oh, and how could anyone forget about the utter tragedy of it all? But he supposed Omi's love had been tragic in its own right.

Omi and Ouka faded from view and Hakkai watched with bored fascination as the rest of the memories swept quietly by. He wondered why, unlike Gojyo and Sanzo, he had been privy to nearly all of Omi's memories in a more vague sense than simply one main defining moment. Perhaps Omi really didn't consider any moment defining, or perhaps he was loath to hold them in clarity in his mind.

The entire occurrence only stood to confirm Hakkai's view. Obviously, Weiss and the Sanzo-ikkou were two sides of the same coin. Now as to the _why_ of their swapping situation, that still needed to be puzzled out.

The Healer came-to, taking a shuddering breath and nearly jumped from his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ken was kneeling at his side where he'd apparently dropped to the floor while _unconscious_, so to speak. The brunet looked sleepy and grumpy, with a healthy amount of concern mixed in.

"You look like Sanzo did when I came into Aya's room and found him holding his bloody hand. I hope you aren't bleeding, because I've really had enough blood to last me awhile." Hakkai felt his gaze soften.

"No, I'm not bleeding." He pulled his hand from the closet, the small tear-shaped blade held between his fingertips. Ken nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, everyone else went through it too. You ok? Not wigged out or anything?" Hakkai tried hard not laugh. The tone in Ken's voice sounded like he'd be more likely to beat the Healer up than aid him if he needed it. Ken seemed really worn out, if past experiences with Goku were ay indication. He shook his head.

"No Ken, everything is just fine. I couldn't find the first aid kit though." He replied. Ken's face clouded with confusion.

"First aid kit?" he asked. "Why are you looking for the first aid kit in the hall utility closet? We all have one in our bedrooms." Hakkai snorted and shook his head. He just _knew_ the man had been lying. Cheeky bastard. Ken only looked more confused at Hakkai's disgruntled expression.

"Let's go." the Healer grumped. Rising, he helped the exhausted soccer player down the hall.

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When Omi sucked in a shuddery gasp of air and blinked around himself confusedly Sanzo released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Troubled, frightened green eyes turned upon his face and the monk was hard pressed to return the stare with his own, indifferent violet. The youth frowned, looking away and tried to get his panting under control. Bony, pale fingers clutched at the dark material of his pant legs, clenching and unclenching reflexively.

And still, the horrifying barrage of memories would not stop. Omi was a murderer. He knew that and nothing in the world made that better. But to kill…to kill like _that_, for the sake of vengeance and blood…even the villagers. Omi couldn't understand the depth of a love like that. Ouka had died his sister, and certainly he had cared for her, loved her in a duty borne from blood, but never had he thought to reap such revenge on her killers. In the end, both he and Ouka had been simple statistics on opposite ends of a spectrum.

But not Hakkai. In a way, it was awesome that he had refused to fade away quietly. That he had refused to simply allow his life to be ravaged, another statistic, as if it didn't matter. It _mattered_ to Hakkai. Just as the men he traveled with now mattered to him. And he was perhaps just as willing to bathe in blood in order to assure their safety. Shuddering the youth hunched his shoulders in on themselves and tried to ignore Sanzo's stares and Goku's snoring. Outside, it had started to rain and he watched, dazed.

Sanzo watched, wondering at Omi's reaction, and calm recollection. When he'd come out of Aya's memory vision, he'd been panting and shaking and wondering what the hell had happened. Omi had reacted, but not as violently as he had. He watched as the youth held out his hand suddenly, and began pulling the small glass shards of Hakkai's monocle out of his palm. With a grunt, the priest held out his hand.

"Let me see it." he muttered. Omi blinked at him, as if just remembering he was there, and reluctantly held out the injured limb. Sanzo reached into his sleeve and pulled out his reading glasses, along with a pair of tweezers. (And Omi wondered about the tweezers….) With more care than the youth expected, the monk took his hand gently and frowned at it through his glass lenses, peering at his bloody palm in order to spot the tiny shards. Omi thought he looked somehow softer, and more vulnerable in his glasses, especially with Goku sleeping on his thigh. And Sanzo was careful not to disturb the monkey, although his excuse would likely be that he wanted some peace and quiet. When Omi winced, he frowned at the youth over the rims of his lenses, but the next shard came out even gentler than the last. Omi tried hard not to smile as his gaze drifted back over to Goku, and he thought of Ken.

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	12. THAT was close

Ok, here's the next chapter. Yay! One more! One more! One more!

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**Chapter 12: That Was Close**?

When Hakkai came to himself again, the first thing he noticed was that his hand stung terribly, and it was stiff and difficult to bend. He groaned, a headache throbbing through his brain that was likely the product of too-little sleep. Heaving himself up onto his elbows, he grunted, squinting his eyes open blearily. His next discovery, by default, was that he was also missing his monocle.

And he was back. Back in China, headed West. Or he would be shortly. Across from him, Sanzo was stooped against the remnants of a stone wall, hair shielding his face from the pale light of dawn, but Hakkai recognized that the pale man's lips were curved into a serene line. On his thigh, Goku rested peacefully, snoring slightly, one golden-hued hand curled into a fist next to his face. The monkey-boy's face was also carved into an expression of serenity, a rare one that Hakkai was certain could only be present due to Sanzo's close proximity.

Gojyo slept not far from them, facing the door, curled into a ball. Hakkai smiled wistfully and sat-up, rubbing his eyes. He felt tired beyond belief, but he was unable to return to sleep now that he had woken up. Omi had been sleeping with his head bent, and now there was a crick in the healer's neck, among other places, and he stood to straighten them out.

Last night, before he had returned, he had tended Ken's wounds and seen to Aya's, simply to ensure that all was well. Neither was seriously injured. They had simply contracted wounds that were inevitable during most battles. Ken mostly suffered from lack of sleep and Aya was simply unconscious from painkillers he'd taken for the gouge in his shoulder. Ken had murmured a sleepy gratitude, and Hakkai had slipped a little something into his tea to get the brunet to sleep. He put the same into Yohji's, and couldn't help but appreciate that he had recognized the sleeping powder in the first-aid kit to begin with. The healer had fallen asleep watching Yohji, trying to ignore the pangs of worry, among other things, that he felt simply looking at that peacefully sleeping face, and wondering what had happened that Yohji was injured more heavily than Aya and Ken. He wanted desperately not to believe that it was because Yohji's likely partner, Omi, had not been at his side. Night had crept in once again, without the Healer's knowledge, and sleep had claimed him without his consent. He had dreamed of Yohji; something odd in which they were in Jeep together, traveling down beneath the ocean. Apparently, they were set to retrieve some sort of pearl from an octopus named Manx, who had a horrendous temper. The most curious thing was that Hakkai had not seen the ocean in a long time.

He felt himself flush, a bit embarrassed, and grateful no one else was around to see. He forced himself to shake those silly thoughts off, since they had absolutely _no_ merit; especially considering they were attached to a man from another dimension who was sharing Gojyo's body, no less. Gods, _that_ could get awkward…

Instead, Hakkai focused himself on the increasingly terrifying prospect of Goku and Ken swapping bodies. Mainly due to the unknown factor of Seiten Taisei. Would the demon spirit switch bodies along with Goku? Would it stay in Goku's body? Would Ken be unable to control it? Or worse, what sort of havoc would Seiten be able to wreak if he was unchecked by a diadem in a new world, in a foreign body? And what about Goku's soul—

"Will you stop thinking so damn loud? _Some_ of us are trying to sleep." there was a teasing tone to Gojyo's grumble as the half-breed sat up slowly, joints popping and pulling. He winced and reached into his pocket to fish out a crushed pack of cigarettes. Casually, he used his lips to pull one out and lit it, smirking. "So, what's got _your_ boxers in a twist?' he drawled, inhaling deeply and then exhaling with relish. Hakkai felt himself flush again, and when the kappa chuckled knowingly, the healer realized the comment had been a set up. Rather than rising to the bait, Hakkai tried to switch the subject.

"I'm worried about the Goku/Ken swap. Seiten Taisei is an unknown quantity that I would rather do without. This is going to be hard enough as it is." he murmured softly, his gaze flitting to Sanzo and Goku sleeping a short distance away. Gojyo nodded.

"Yeah, I got ya. Find anything _else_ out on your little vacation? Like what everyone keeps trying to hide? We tried to get it out of Omi, but the kid was so damn nervous I think we're lucky he didn't try to bolt."

"Omi was nervous? That seems a bit against his character from what I could see." Hakkai replied with a frown. "Although I suppose he might be uncomfortable trying to hide the true nature of their work."

Gojyo raised an eyebrow. "And what _is_ the 'true nature of their work'?" he replied, rising slowly to his feet and approaching the healer.

"Yes. Please share." came Sanzo's low, rough voice. It was somewhat muted and Hakkai realized the monk was trying not to wake Goku. Just as well. They could all use the peace before chaos likely ensued. Taking a deep breath, he stared hard at Gojyo and Sanzo while he told them the truth.

"They're assassins. They're paid to kill people. Humans, not demons. From what I understood, there aren't any demons in their world. At least not literal ones." There was a silence as both men digested the information.

"Humans huh? For cash?" Gojyo asked thoughtfully. Sanzo scowled at him.

"Idiot, what did you think an assassin _was_?" he growled irately. "I don't like this. Why so secretive about it?" the priest turned his attention back to Hakkai. The healer smiled, but it was without humor.

"Theirs' is a different world Sanzo. Things seem infinitely more complicated, and technology seems to be highly advanced as well as prevalent. Too many people catching wind of a pack of assassins in a place where the law is the only authority would likely spell the end of them. I believe they were simply trying to protect themselves. And us." Here the monk snorted.

"Protect us from what? Aya and Yohji had eyes. They forgot about battling demons?" Hakkai shook his head.

"It seemed to be a mix of shame and fear on Yohji's part. He described their 'missions' as being specific forays into enemy territory. He was frightened as to what would happen should one of us be in body when one of these tasks comes up. I informed him that trying to shield us from the truth does not help. I fear there is more to the story than what I was told, but at least we have a better idea now."

"Hn." Sanzo scowled thoughtfully, lighting his own cigarette up. Gojyo shifted after a moment and fixed Hakkai with a grave stare.

"In a way, Yohji is right to be afraid." he began. "We should be on our guard. Right now, we pretty much fight in the open whenever we need to. There isn't much of a plan behind it, because there really _can't_ be. But if these guys are planning these 'missions' in any kind of precise manner, which they would need to in order to be successful, then there's a lot at stake if someone they're relying on suddenly 'isn't there'." the half-breed murmured. Hakkai nodded, frowning. Sanzo exhaled a mouthful of smoke and fixed the two of them with a dark, troubled stare. Without realizing it, his free hand came to rest gently on Goku's head.

"So in that sense, it's like playing roulette. And sooner or later, one of us _could_ end up somewhere far more dangerous than where we've been thus far. For both ourselves and our counter parts." the priest muttered. "The first opportunity we have, we'll need to learn what sort of weapons and fighting styles they work with, and maybe work out a common weapon everyone knows how to use. Like a gun."

Hakkai and Gojyo both nodded, frowning.

"I don't like this. At all." the kappa growled, exhaling another mouthful of smoke.

"Tough shit. We're gonna have to deal with it." Sanzo snapped back. He refused to acknowledge any other emotions he felt over the up-coming switch. He couldn't contemplate Seiten Taisei. No matter how hard he'd tried to reason it out in his brain. And if what they'd speculated was correct, this situation was already getting far too dangerous. This was going from being an annoyance to being a threat.

Gojyo snapped something back at him, but Sanzo could have cared less. His violet gaze was fixed onto Goku's slumbering face, a fierce scowl marring his features. Even if he didn't say it out loud, he agreed with Gojyo. He didn't like this at _all_.

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Aya woke up groggily, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. The fact that he had woken up in his own, neat room in his own body yet again still didn't fail to send a flood of warm relief through him.

The swordsman sat up stiffly, grunting and taking a moment to perch on the edge of the bed and collect himself. He looked up after a moment, in search of Ken. The brunet was slumbering behind him, squeezed onto the other half of his twin-sized bed. The redhead smiled wistfully, and reached a pale hand out to brush the soft, dark hair from his lover's forehead. Ken slept on, snoring slightly, too deeply asleep to register the touch.

With a groan, Aya made himself stand, and staggered into his bathroom, turning on the light. The face that greeted him in the mirror was sporting some wicked looking bruises, but nothing too bad. The majority of them had wound up out of sight. He'd had to throw himself around a little too much for his liking during last night's mission, but it had been unavoidable since they'd been doing a four man mission one man short.

At least Manx had accepted their excuse of Omi's illness, but that was really just barely, and they were going to have to find a way around this sooner or later before a _real_ catastrophe occurred. Fatal injuries or even death, was something they all took on as a part of the job description, but the added unpredictability of the body swap pushed the stakes that much farther.

Although he was certain that after last night Sanzo's team _had_ to be somewhat aware of Weiss' circumstances. He'd unthinkingly sent Yohji down to Omi, knowing that Ken would be unable to care for everyone, and he hadn't realized until Hakkai had come in later exactly what he'd set into motion. It was no matter now. After last night it was obvious that Sanzo's group would know most of the situation. They had the rights to, really. Weiss would have to deal with the consequences later. Hopefully Kritiker wouldn't find out. The Gods knew what would happen then.

Turing on the cold tap, Aya cupped his palms beneath the flow and splashed the water onto his face brusquely. It was highly unpleasant, but when he stood up to grab a towel, he was far more awake. He wiped quickly at the drops seeping onto his bare chest and back, shivering.

After gargling with Listerine to get the taste of dead animal out of his mouth, he wandered back into his room and crouched by the bed, watching Ken sleep. There were dark rings beneath the brunet's eyes, and he remembered Ken being awake long into the night. Gently, he slid a hand down his lover's arm, moving the covers aside to check on the bandaging. Ken was decent at bandaging others, but when it came to bandaging himself, he was rather clumsy. However, the bandage on his shoulder going down onto his upper arm was neatly done, and secured efficiently, indicating that someone else had done it. Likely Hakkai, which made Aya relax slightly. He remembered feeling as though the man was highly competent. Sanzo's surface memories had indicated he was a healer.

At the touch of his hand resting so lightly on the former goalie's skin, Ken stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering. He mumbled something incoherent and smacked his lips, bringing a fist up to rub at his eyes. Aya smiled gently when he squinted them open, eager to give him a good morning greeting.

Suddenly Ken's eyes went wide as saucers and he was up and sliding rapidly to the other side of the bed. Not anticipating the end of the mattress, he slid off the foot and landed on the floor with a hard 'thump'. Aya was torn between laughing and panicking.

"…Ken?" he called out tentatively. A set of golden-hued fingers appeared at the very edge of the bed, followed by a set of wide, deep brown eyes.

"S-Sanzo?" came the hesitant call. Aya felt his heart break. Ken was gone. It was the former goalie's turn now. But he needed to be kind nevertheless. Trying for his most patient smile, he shook his head.

"It's Aya, Goku. Do you know where you are?" he replied gently. Goku shook his head, sitting up a bit straighter. It was so strange, to see such a youthful, wide-eyed expression on his lover's face. So naive. "You're in my room. Above Kitty in the House, the flower shop that Ken, Yohji, Omi and I work at. "

"Kitty in the House?" came the confused echo.

"Nevermind that right now." Aya replied dryly. Goku climbed up, wincing slightly, and flexing his injured arm.

"Oh man, you guys fight or something? I'm all sore." he grumbled, rotating his shoulder. Aya was still waiting for him to question why he'd woken up not in Ken's bed, in Ken's room. He was certain that until this point only Sanzo knew about he and Ken, and he wondered how Goku would react when Ken's surface memories kicked in. Which they should be- any moment now. Goku opened his mouth and –

"I'm _starving!_ Isn't there anything to eat here? It feels like I haven't eaten in _ages_!" he wailed, rubbing his belly. As if to prove his point (or make him seem more pathetic) his stomach gave a loud grumble, and he grunted. Aya tried hard to keep a straight face while he wandered over to his kitchen. He hadn't gone grocery shopping in a long while, and if there wasn't any food here he would have to take the youth down to the communal kitchen.

Opening his cabinets revealed some aji seaweed, a package of expired instant miso, and some dubious looking cubes of seafood bullion. Oh man. His fridge was not much better. A half-dead apple, an expired carton of milk, and some sort of leftover that had evolved into it's own species.

Ugh. He was used to Ken cooking for the two of them. The brunet's fridge was always loaded with groceries, as Ken _insisted_ upon keeping at least himself and Aya healthy. However, Aya would much rather brave the snows of Mt. Fuji in his swimming trunks than even _try_ to navigate Ken's apartment without the brunet somewhere close by. He became suddenly aware of someone hovering directly above him, breathing down his neck, and he turned quickly, backing into the closed refrigerator door. Goku regarded him with wide, curious eyes.

"Naa Aya – how come you're so jumpy?" he asked slowly. Aya blinked, and then scowled, unable to help himself.

"Hovering over somebody like that would make _anybody_ jumpy!" the redhead growled. Silence hung about them for a moment, a silence during which the youth before him seemed to scrutinize him endlessly with that same, openly curious expression. It was amazing to see. Goku and Ken were the same ages, had both fought and killed- and bore enormous burdens upon their shoulders, however, Goku seemed infinitely younger than Ken in almost every way. So strange, as the 'youth' was well and truly over 500 years old. Aya wondered about that. He paused in his thoughts as he watched Goku's face suddenly turn a brilliant shade of red, the expression confused.

"You like Ken?" he finally asked after a moment, the tone disbelieving. Aya nodded solemnly. The brunet's face turned into a puzzled frown. "You can do that? " he pressed after a moment. Aya tried hard not to scowl angrily.

"Of _course_" he growled. "Why _wouldn't_ I be able to?" Goku looked confused.

"I dunno. I just…never saw it _done_ before. I mean demons and people sure, all the time, but two guys?" He trailed off into thoughtful silence. Aya's frown deepened.

"Do you think it's wrong?" he asked slowly, wondering how this would affect the delicate truce that seemed to have form between both groups. Goku's face transformed from confused into thoughtful.

"Not really. I like Sanzo." he said matter-of-factly. Aya's eye-brows rose sharply.

"You do?" he asked hesitantly. He certainly hadn't gotten any indications of affectionate feelings of that nature between the two from Sanzo. Then again, he was also very open in his relationship with Ken, and was perhaps used to that openness.

The youth nodded. "Yeah. But I don't think he likes me much, so…" he trailed off, shrugging. Aya's gaze softened. He knew well the feeling of rejected love.

"Well, don't worry too much about it. I'm sure he just hasn't realized it yet." the stoic man said with a small smile. Goku looked at him as if he'd grown two heads.

"If you say so." he said, in a tone that suggested he didn't necessarily believe the red-head. His shoulders hunched in, and he looked away for a moment. When he looked back, the heaviness was gone from his eyes. "So what're we gonna eat?" he chirped enthusiastically. Aya put a hand to his forehead and tried hard not to groan.

"Let's just go downstairs and see what we've got." he replied, opening the door and leading the youth out into the hall. He had a feeling this would be a _long_ morning.

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It happened so suddenly, it was almost comical. One moment, they'd been having a grave and broody discussion, and the next moment he'd caught a glimpse of Hakkai and Gojyo's terrified expressions aimed not at himself, but at his lap.

"Sanzo, whatever you do, _don't_ move man." Gojyo muttered, pointing downwards with quick, short movements. When he looked down, he almost fainted. If he'd had a constitution prone to fainting, that is. As it was, when he looked down he almost _wished_ that he had that sort of constitution.

For the rest of his life, he _never_ wanted to see Seiten Taisei that close to any part of his body _that _important, even if he _was_ a monk. An arrested sort of silence hung in the air for a moment before ancient golden eyes cracked open blearily, blinking themselves awake. Everyone collectively held their breaths, ready to be on the defensive at the slightest signal. The age-old demon yawned, smacking his lips a time or two before sitting-up, rubbing at his eyes. He blinked at Hakkai and Gojyo for a moment, a blankness coming into his stare before he turned and regarded Sanzo similarly. Then Seiten Taisei, terror and mortal enemy to all entities of all plains and dimensions opened his mouth, and said:

"Who the _Hell_ are you guys?" There was a loud 'thud' as everyone in the room collectively fell onto the floor. Seiten Taisei blinked. "And what the hell is wrong with you?" he added as an afterthought, rising slowly to his feet. He rolled his shoulders a time or two, a horrid 'cracking' sound accompanying the movements. He walked over to the doorway idly, leaning on the frame and surveying the decaying and deserted town outside with an uninterested expression on his face. This, he surmised, must be where everybody else had gone. He was a little surprised at how fast he had been taken away from his own body. Presumably, Omi had made it back to his.

The rest of the Sanzo-ikkou stood watching warily, waiting for the moment that Seiten Taisei would remember he was a demon bent on the destruction of all worlds and finally behave like one. They waited. And waited. And he continued to look out the doorway, trying to get a sense of his location. An uneventful silence ticked by, and as they watched, slowly the pointed ears curved into human ones, the claws blunting themselves into dirty, boyish fingernails. The hair began to shorten and shrink, until after a moment they found themselves staring at a bored-looking Goku. He turned around after a minute, pulling himself up-short at the sight of everyone staring at him so animatedly. Ken frowned.

"Alright, you guys are _definitely_ weird. Is there something on my shirt or what?" he grunted, looking down at himself. No, his attire seemed in order. He ran his new, smaller hands through his hair. Nope. Although the texture was rough and thick, it still felt like it was all there and in some semblance of order. There was some sort of gold band on his forehead, but he was pretty certain that wouldn't be evoking this sort of reaction.

None of their opposites had _seemed_ this out-to-lunch when he'd met them on the other side, but hey, who knew these days? A red-haired, lanky man Ken guessed to be Yohji's double for no good reason at all other than instinct leaned over to a tall, thin brunet wearing a painfully polite-looking smile.

"D'ya think we're safe?" he murmured. The brunet waved him away distractedly, never taking his eyes off Ken, and the former j-leaguer felt himself getting annoyed. For cryin' out loud, these guys had all already done this! It wasn't really anything all that new! Just as Ken looked to be ready to explode, Hakkai stepped forward.

"Ahaha! Ken right? Welcome aboard!" he exclaimed quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. Ken raised his eyebrows.

"Thanks." he muttered looking annoyed and confused at the same time. He gave all of them a once over with an expression that was so alien on Goku's face he may as well have still been Seiten Taisei.

The kid's face had no business wearing an expression that jaded and untrusting in Gojyo's opinion. A quick glance to Sanzo saw the monk staring moodily out a nearby window, arms crossed over his chest, and cigarette dangling from his lips. Well that was just terrific. Sanzo was going to be a pisser through the whole thing it looked like. Stupid corrupt monk. Gojyo turned back to where Hakkai was attempting to make pleasant conversation with their newest guest. The strain was obvious, not that Gojyo blamed the man. Seeing Seiten Taisei by any means was enough to shake a guy up. Seeing him behave like a normal person was just…_unsettling_. Taking a settling breath, the Kappa strode forward and stuck a playful grin onto his face.

"Hey kid. Welcome to the party." he offered by way of greeting, resisting the urge to ruffle brown locks. Goku's face looked up at him, wearing a slightly sarcastic expression that gave the half-breed goosebumps.

"Some party." he replied derisively. "How come everybody keeps staring?" Hakkai smiled politely again, and Ken frowned at him. Surely smiling like that must hurt that man's face?

"Ahh, well, we were just worried about a few details, and the result of the switch kind of surprised us. " the healer tried. Ken raised an eyebrow at him.

"A few details?" he prompted. Just as Hakkai and Gojyo looked at each other, struggling to figure out an explanation without telling a long-winded and rather involved story, Sanzo suddenly stirred from his corner of the room.

"We're leaving. Pack it up and let's go." the monk growled, walking by them without so much as a glance. Although his eyes were not visible, his mouth was drawn into a tight, thin line as he strode out the door. Gojyo and Hakkai traded significant glances before rising to follow, Ken not far behind.

"Jeez, what the hell crawled up _his_ ass and died?" the smaller brunet muttered out loud. Gojyo couldn't help it; he slapped his knee and let out an uproariously loud guffaw, nearly falling on his face as they walked out the door. Hakkai simply shook his head, his shoulders shaking in the occasional chuckle.

"I _heard_ that." Sanzo grunted from somewhere ahead of them. Ken crossed his arms and pouted.

"_Good_." he shot back. Gojyo just laughed harder. It looked like _someone_ was finally gonna give the corrupt monk a run for his money. This was gonna be _good_.

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Whew! Another chapter over, can ya believe it? I just want all this to be done! More drama to come, I promise. We're gonna get to do a lot of messing around with Ken and Goku. They've got the most potential after all. And how could they not, with Aya and Sanzo hanging round right next door?


	13. You give them an inch

Updated like whoa…Sorry for the delay folks!

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Chapter 13: You give them an inch… 

The silence in the jeep was tense with unexpressed hostility, an atmosphere that was thickened by Seiten Taisei's previously unexplained normality in the face of the body swap. It made little sense that the demon had not in fact taken control given the golden opportunity, leaving an ominous feeling hanging above everyone's head.

This was not helped by the fact that Sanzo had said little or nothing to anyone, preferring to stare moodily out of Jeep's windshield, chain-smoking. Ken, who sat behind him simply because it was Gojyo's habit to sit behind Hakkai, scowled at the back of the monk's head, arms crossed. Occasionally, he lifted his hand and tried to vigorously swat at the smoke in front of his face. But combined with Gojyo's smoke (The Kappa was also chain-smoking to burn off some of the stress in the air…), the effort usually did nothing. Which contrived to put Ken in an even worse mood than he was already.

Gojyo and Hakkai, on their parts, observed the exchanged behaviors and tried hard not to become too involved. It was unsettling enough to see some of the expressions Ken made on Goku's face, nevermind the _death-glare_ the youth was currently directing at the back of the priest's head. Goku had been mad at Sanzo, certainly, but never to this degree, and never for this long. Both men silently agreed that perhaps it was something Sanzo needed to experience in order to understand exactly how much he was taking for granted.

Hakkai drove with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, polite smile plastered all over his face as he stared hard into the horizon, willing a town to appear. But he knew that they had at the very least until nightfall before they might find another village. Hopefully it wouldn't be plundered like the last one. Truthfully, the cigarette smoke was getting on _his_ nerves as well, and he wanted a reprieve from polluting his lungs with unfiltered carcinogens. The healer glanced at Ken once more in the rear-view mirror. The young man was still in the same position, with the same annoyed bordering on irate look on his face, although now he was looking out to the side instead of his usual focus at the back of Sanzo's head. Hakkai wondered how Sanzo could possibly stand having a gaze that forceful trained on him all the time, but he wasn't about to ask. Ken swatted at the air in front of him again, and Hakkai agreed whole-heartedly. Bracing himself for the inevitable tirade, he eased onto the brakes in a patch of scraggly trees and pulled the car to a stop in the shade.

Like clockwork, the healer felt the cool barrel of a gun pointing at his temple. A bit over-reactive, but Hakkai felt that it was alright under the circumstances.

"You have five seconds to put this car in gear." the monk growled low. The healer heard Gojyo shift behind him in preparation for something ugly.

"Sanzo, we need to break for lunch. I'm hungry, and I'm sure Gojyo and Ken are too. We won't be able to function properly if we don't get some nourishment. And I'm certain Jeep needs a rest as well. " Hakuryu 'kyuued' in response, and Ken looked momentarily uncomfortable.

Sanzo didn't put his gun down and Hakkai watched his lower jaw grind angrily. To say the monk didn't want to stop was an understatement. Just as things looked to be coming to a head, Ken made a decision, suddenly jumping from the backseat.

"Works for me. I'm starved." he grumbled, ambling over to the tree-trunk and stretching lazily. It was with supreme relief that the healer felt the barrel leave his temple. Instead, the muzzle of Sanzo's gun swung around and trained itself on Ken as the youth flopped down lazily beneath a small, pitiful-looking tree with his hands under his head.

"Get. In. This. Car. Now. " the monk growled, patience long past reaching its end. Ken snorted, ignoring him for all extensive purposes.

"Kiss my ass pretty boy. We need a break. The two of you are gonna suffocate me with all your damn smoke. I swear, you're worse than Yohji in a _depression_. 'Sides, I'm hungry." Several veins began pulsing in Sanzo's forehead, and he hopped out of the jeep angrily, storming over to where Ken remained unmoved. Much to Hakkai's surprise, Gojyo jumped out after, looking tense and on the defensive.

"Oi, Sanzo!" he called, but the monk ignored him, coming to a stop at the young brunet's feet.

"I said _get up_." he growled, his voice deceptively soft. Hakkai didn't think he'd seen Sanzo this angry. Not at Goku anyways. Ken scowled up at him and popped into a sitting position.

"And I believe my reply was something along the lines of _fuck off_." he spat in reply, a very real and adult expression of anger on his face, with a hint of defiance one would expect to find on the face of any normal teenager. Sanzo tensed, by default sending Gojyo and Hakkai into tense poses as well. Hakkai searched his mind desperately for a way to break the tension, but could come up with none that did not put himself or someone else in Sanzo's direct path of rage. Something he was keen to avoid unless absolutely necessary. Although at this point, judging by the stubborn jut of Ken's jaw, the breaking point was close to being reached.

The monk's teeth grit together and he reached into one white silken sleeve and brought out the harrisen, whose appearance was almost comical considering the serious tension in the air. "Last call. Move-it." he barked. Ken crossed his arms and smiled up cynically.

"Make me. I fucking _dare_ you to try it." he sneered.

The air seemed to hover in tense anticipation for a moment before Sanzo brought the fan down, trying to ignore how wrong it felt since this wasn't Goku, not at all, and this wasn't playfulness or irritation. Sanzo viewed Ken as the enemy, an alien that had taken over his charge's body, twisting that boyish, cherubic face in ways it was never meant to be twisted, making comments and cursing in tones that Goku would never have used, and it was just too much, too much for Sanzo to deal with; this last defiance.

The fan landed with a loud _THWAK!_ , accompanied by Hakkai's soft sound of protest and Gojyo's grunt of the same, and everyone seemed to hold their breath for a moment. Ken stood up slowly, ominously, his face shadowed, Goku's full lips curved into a derisive sneer.

"Man, you frigging can't keep your hands to yourself. Fuck this, I'm _done_ being nice." the brunet murmured softly. Then faster than any of them could blink, he reared back his fist, and brought it down against Sanzo's jaw _hard_, a small dust cloud kicking up as the monk fell into the dirt at Ken's feet. "_That's_ for punching me when you were in Ran's body and I couldn't do anything about it. I don't really know what the fuck Goku puts up with, but you can sure as hell bet that I'm not gonna respect anyone who doesn't respect me. I don't fucking take orders any better than you do." the brunet growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Sanzo said nothing for a moment, bringing a hand to his jaw as he flexed it tentatively. Hakkai hurried forward to intervene before the small brawl became a blood bath, Gojyo hot on his heels.

"Never thought I'd see the day I'd be refereeing _Sanzo's_ fights…" the kappa muttered under his breath. Hakkai wanted to laugh, but couldn't find it in himself to do so. They approached just as Sanzo was rising to his feet. Ken didn't move, remaining with his feet planted shoulder-width apart, arms still crossed as he glared, his own jaw tensing instinctively. Hakkai had a feeling that Sanzo was hit harder than any of them by Goku's body swap, and the priest was likely quite uncomfortable with being unable to watch over his charge while he was elsewhere. The monk rose over Ken, fists clenched, jaw grinding, face shadowed. At first, he couldn't seem to make himself speak. He wanted, so badly, to let loose with his fists, his gun, _anything_, but he couldn't, because Goku was somewhere else, and as annoying as the monkey was, he didn't deserve coming back to a battered body. Or having no body to come back to at all. Considering he'd been the first person to strike both times, he supposed Ken could be considered a patient man, given his personality. If he was anywhere near tenacious as Goku, the priest acknowledged that he might have ended up unconscious. Reaching an inward decision, he stared hard at the brunet before him, the expression on that face so foreign, and did the only thing he _could_ do:

"Now we're even." he growled quietly, letting some of the tension slip from his shoulders. "Anything else from here on in is fair game." He surprised everyone by sitting down on the dirt a distance away, and lighting up a cigarette. "Hurry the fuck up and eat if you're going to, we're wasting time." he grunted, sounding much more like his old self. Hakkai nodded, and turned to retrieve their rations, casting Gojyo a confused surprised glance which the Kappa seemed to share. Ken simply pumped his fist in the air enthusiastically, anger already out of his system.

"Alright! _Food!_" he cheered, sounding quite close to the Goku they were used to. Hakkai could not believe things had been resolved so quickly. Sanzo snorted and Gojyo, unable to help himself, wrapped an arm around Ken's neck and noggeyed the top of his head. Ken cried out and struggled to escape to no avail, and the two of them went down in the dirt, wrestling playfully, a couple of boys in the school yard. When he had come back and laid out the tarp, setting-up the rations, the two broke ranks to eat, and Sanzo bestirred himself to sulk over and nibble at a meat bun or two. It was not long before a familiar, and almost missed sound filled the air.

"_Hey!_ You asshole, that's _my_ meat bun!"

"Che, like _your_ name was on it?"

"It was in my friggin' _hands_ you dirty thief!"

"Details, details; like that actually _matters_?"

"The _hell_ it doesn't! Give it back!...Fuck _you_! I didn't say _swallow _it!"

There was a moment of maniacal laughter that abruptly ended with a heavy _oof_!

"Hey man, yer gonna haveta pay for that. Think I'll have this _awesome_ looking bowl of dumplings…"

"Hey monkey-boy, those are _mine_!"

"'Che, like _your_ name was on them?'"

"Oh, _fuck_ you man!"

"No thanks."

"Oh _euuwww_…"

"Hey,_ you_ said it, not me."

"That's just _wrong_."

"Mffbbbmmm."

"…Holy shit! Did you just eat that _whole_ bowl?"

"Yeah. Duh. Why, what do_ you_ do with your dumplings usually?

"Fuck you, I _eat_ them when little pricks like you don't steal them!"

This was only met with the sound of Ken laughing which was followed by another wrestling tussle in the dust. When it was over, the brunet had won, and Gojyo sat up rubbing at his head and grumbling.

"Frigging stupid monkey."

"You wanna call me that to my _face_?"

"I just _did_."

"Listen, you perverted bastard…"

_BANG BANG BANG!_

"In a few minutes, you're gonna be food for the Goddam _crows_ if you two don't knock it the fuck off. " Sanzo grunted quietly, tucking his gun into his sleeve. Gojyo and Ken blinked owlishly, looking nervous.

"Dammit you corrupt monk, watch where you're aiming that thing!" Gojyo growled, looking incredulous.

"Is that guy friggin' _serious_?" Ken mumbled, looking disturbed. Hakkai laughed nervously when Sanzo's eyebrow began to twitch.

"Let's not find out, shall we?" he replied graciously, gathering up their things. Ken nodded uneasily and stooped to help. Hakkai blinked at him for a moment before accepting gratefully, and soon they were packed and ready to go.

Hopefully this time Gojyo and Sanzo wouldn't try to kill everyone with their smoking.

_A guy could dream_, Ken thought sullenly.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yohji wrapped two hands around his still-steaming coffee mug and blinked. Twice. The scene before him didn't change, however. Aya was sitting stooped over, with his chin in his hand, watching Ken. A Ken that was on his third plate of breakfast. Among other things. Omi stood slightly behind the brunet's chair, looking both amazed and exasperated. It was obvious to Yohji that Ken had been going at it before the youth was even up since Omi was still in his pajamas, hair askew, face still soft with sleep. And Ken ate on, unhindered. Aya was looking increasingly annoyed with each passing moment, his brows furrowing together in agitation. Finally, the silence began to freak the lanky man out enough that he cleared his throat, breaking the tension in the room.

"Uhhh….Ken?" he asked. Ken didn't so much as blink in his direction.

"It's Goku." Aya responded curtly, not bothering to lift his head from his hand. _Ahhhh_, Yohji thought, _that explains a lot._ Grinning he sauntered over and ruffled the kid's hair, never mind that Ken looked nothing like a kid. Goku stopped eating long enough to grin up at him enthusiastically.

"Hey great! Yohji nii-chan's awake!" he cheered. Yohji flinched when he felt two other questioning sets of eyes on him.

"Yohji _nii-chan_?" Omi wanted to know, his eyebrows climbing a steep range up his forehead. Yohji shrugged, trying to play it off.

"You know kids these days." He muttered. Neither Omi nor Aya looked to be buying, and Goku shot him a dirty look.

"I'm not a freakin' kid!" he growled. And then went back to shoveling food into his mouth. Yohji shrugged again, the gesture an elegant one, and sauntered from the kitchen, trying to save face. He was well aware of several sets of eyes on him as he went, and he tried to ignore the weird feeling it gave him.

Omi blinked, staring at Yohji's back as the lanky man departed. "_Nii-chan_ huh? Wonder what the hell that's about?" he murmured, his gaze following the play-boy out of the kitchen. Across the table, Aya was trying hard not to look disturbed. 'Ken' saying nii-chan to anyone was disturbing enough, but saying something like that to _Yohji_….hell, _anyone_ saying nii-chan to _Yohji_ was just wrong. It reminded the red-head of that creepy way Yohji had with calling himself 'Uncle Yohji' whenever he made perverted jokes.

Across from him, Goku suddenly sighed in satisfaction and stacked his final dish, pushing back from the table. Curious, Omi leaned forward easily to take in the estimate. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment once he had finished, performing some sort of equation in his head.

"That's about three times what Ken eats for breakfast usually! A record I bet!" he chirped cheerfully after a moment. Aya frowned at him, before turning the same frown onto Goku who was standing and stretching.

"You'd better clean-up since I cooked." He grunted. Goku's face fell.

"Aww man! By myself?" he whined incredulously. Aya nodded, rising himself.

"Yes by yourself. You're the only one who ate." he replied.

"But there's a TON to clean!" the youth wailed. Aya's eyebrow began twitching, and he put a hand to his forehead in annoyance.

"You should have thought about that when you were eating all that food!" he snapped back. Goku huffed and crossed his arms, but carried the stack of plates to the sink eventually, muttering to himself .

"This sucks." he grumbled beneath his breath, turning the tap on.

"And make sure to fill the dish pan so you don't run the water the whole time." Aya added as an afterthought. Goku snorted but refrained from complaining further. Against his better judgment, the red-head turned and left the kitchen, seeking a hot shower and some day-clothes. As much as he preferred to keep the youth in his sight since it _was_ Ken's body, Aya had a feeling that Yohji might be the better person to sit with the kid given the earlier scene at the breakfast table. Unless there was some sort of perverted meaning behind it that he was missing. The stoic red-head frowned as he thought about it, deciding that maybe he didn't want to _know_.

OOooOOooOO

Yohji ambled up the steps to their living quarters, wondering at Aya's odd behavior in asking that he keep an eye on Goku. Maybe seeing Ken behaving like a kid was unnerving for the red-head. Yohji didn't blame him. Aya and Ken were lovers, and seeing your lover acting like some one else probably wasn't easy. It was hard enough just trying to adjust to having a comrade in the same situation.

The playboy's first clue that something _might_ be wrong _could_ have been the water he suddenly found himself stepping in. His foot landed upon the next stair with not a '_thunk'_, but a quiet '_splish'_. He looked down, more shocked than alarmed to see a small stream of water meandering its way down the staircase towards the shop's staff kitchen. It had only reached the halfway stair, but remained moving obstinately downwards. Where he was standing, the stream had widened to encompass more of the stair surface, and the water only deepened as he continued his climb. Not good. Each step brought the playboy a heavier feeling of dread in his gut. What the _hell_ was going on?

When he reached the top of the stairs, he hesitated at the doorway to the kitchen. The sound of running water filled his ears, and with a large amount of trepidation, Yohji stepped slowly into the inch of water covering the linoleum floor, carefully lifting the bottoms of his pant legs off the ground. Taking a deep, bracing breath, the playboy looked over at the sink Aya said he'd left the youth at.

It was empty. The dish-tub had been placed in the center to be filled, consequently blocking the drain. The tub had filled-over, filling the sink, which had in turn filled-over, spilling suds and water alike down the front of the cabinets like a waterfall and sending it splashing to the floor waiting below. There were cheerful mountains of suds spilling out onto the counters; miniature fluffy, marshmallowy mounds of happiness. Scenic,when in the right place. The kitchen was not that place. And Aya was going to have a lot more than just a fit. Yohji was seeing homicide in the near future.

With a grunt, he leapt into action, reaching the faucet and shutting it off. His next plan of action was to carefully hoist the tub up off the blocked drain so that the water could start to drain-out. Despite the care he took, however, he wound up wearing soapy dishwater down the front of his very nice silk knit shirt. By Armani. Brand new. Nevermind the pant-legs that were floating in the water on the floor. Really, Yohji wasn't very happy with Goku at the moment either. Once the sink had emptied, the playboy turned the pan over, dumping its contents into the basin and watching it drain with satisfaction. He endeavored to ignore the dirty dishes that had been moved to the counter beside the sink and remained as yet unwashed. Turning around, he took a step towards the door to go _find_ Goku, and did a terrific job ignoring the squelching sound his slippers and pant legs made. Outwardly, he was the appearance of calm. Inwardly, he supposed five seconds was a very decent deadline for an explanation. After that, he would not be held accountable for the next likely course of action.

Stepping out into the hallway, Yohji rolled-up his sleeves and put his hands on his hips, soggy legs akimbo, and tilting his head back, bellowed Goku's name in almost a roar. Okay, so he had managed to get a _little_ pissed-off. After several long moments, a pair of wide brown eyes peeped over the top of the stairs cautiously. Upon seeing Yohji, Goku's whole face appeared, the expression looking out of place on Ken's face.

"Yohji nii-chan!" he chirped, bounding down the stairs like a happy puppy. Yohji's frown remained unmoved. Goku pulled up short at the look on the playboy's face. "…What?" he asked slowly, sheepishness creeping into his tone. Yohji raised an eyebrow at him.

"Any reason you've decided to recreate a koi-pond in the kitchen?" he asked. Goku frowned in confusion.

"I didn't." he said simply. Yohji's other eyebrow met the first.

"Then why is it flooded?" he persisted. Goku's frown deepened for a second before brown eyes widened in horror.

"Oh crap! I forgot about the dishes!" he wailed. Yohji snorted derisively and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll say you did." he replied flatly. Goku sent him a hangdog look and slunk past him, streaking off to the kitchen. Several seconds later, there was a loud crash, followed by the sound of cursing. Yohji put his face in one of his palms and turned, walking down the stairs slowly.

A little too slowly, apparently, for Aya appeared at the kitchen doorway just as Yohji was halfway down. He watched, like a man sleeping and unable to act, as the red head disappeared through the doorway. He reappeared several seconds later, face a blank stone mask.

"Kudo." the deep baritone was deceptively soft. Yohji winced, waiting for the death blow. "You're helping him clean that up." the tone brooked no argument. Yohji frowned, indignant.

"No way! I don't get paid enough for this shit, and besides, _you're_ the one who left him, not me! I only got assigned to this mess five minutes ago!" he yelled back. Aya pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger, and took a deep breath.

"Then you can explain to Kritiker when they need a new agent." the stoic man growled ominously. Yohji's eyes widened.

"Aya, think of Ken!" he called out, chasing the red-head back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Aya grunted, making no response. Worse than Yohji thought. He came flying into the kitchen, hot on Aya's heels and hoping to prevent a homicide. When he turned the corner, Aya was standing over Goku ominously, and the youth had flinched and curled into a protective squat, hands covering his head.

"Ahhhhh! Ididn'tmeanitI'msorryIjustforgot,Ireallydidn'tmeantoIpromise!" the youth wailed with one breath, knowing exactly what the position and facial expression meant, even if it wasn't Sanzo. Aya remained unmoved, one hand slowly reaching for a bag of uncooked udon noodles lying innocently on the counter, the most convenient thing in reach. Yohji didn't think, he just _dove_, coming between Aya and Goku at the last possible second and blocking the bag of udon with a cross-arm maneuver, which accidentally sent the bag sailing into a nearby wall where it exploded, raining stiff noodles over the water on the floor and causing the playboy to grin inwardly. Ken the goalie would have been proud.

"A-heheh. Aya, maybe you should er….help Omi in the shop. I can take care of this. Really." Yohji said a silent prayer to any Gods that happened to be listening that Aya would just storm off and that would be the worst of it. There was a tense silence for a moment, before the stoic man let out a growl that may or may not have been a response, and did just as Yohji had prayed. They listened to him stomp back down into the shop before either of them dared to move. The playboy realized belatedly that Goku was clinging to his soggy silk pant-legs. He turned and looked down at the youth, frowning at the expression of guilty fear on his face.

" What's the matter kiddo? S'just Aya. He'll cool-off eventually." he remarked good-naturedly, reaching down to ruffle dark hair. Goku ducked his head and turned wide eyes up to Yohji.

"He's freaking scarier than Sanzo!" the youth yelled. Yohji thought about it for a moment, realizing the behavioral differences between Ken and Goku despite the similar age. He smirked after a moment.

"Nahh. I'll bet he's just all bent out of shape that Ken isn't here, that's all. Aya's a funny guy sometimes Goku. You just never know what'll set him off or what won't, or how badly. Plus, he sort of acts differently than Sanzo when he's angry." Goku nodded. "C'mon kid, let's clean this mess up."

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Argh! I was going to write more, but I think I'll stop this chapter here. Next one should have a bit of a twist to it, and for those of you looking for some suspense/action hopefully that'll be there, along with some EXTRA mild Sanzo/Goku…blink and you'll miss it. Till then, ja na!


	14. Speak of the Devil

Chapter 14 – Speak of the Devil

OOOoooOOOOoooOOOoooOOOOoooOOOoooOOOOoooOOOoooOOOOoooOOO

Ken and Goku's swap was lasting unusually long. Not, Hakkai reflected, that there was a usual time frame for these sorts of things, or if there was, the healer didn't presume to know it. However, Ken had already been hanging around for an entire week, and the most any of the other swaps had lasted was about three days. Hakkai supposed that this could be due to the fact that Ken had obviously not had the expected memory visions, and he wondered if Ken and Goku were even going to have that experience considering that Goku remembered nothing except 500 years of isolation and imprisonment.

They had been fortunate for the most part that there had been little violence on the battle front. Ken couldn't use nyoi-bo, but he was very good at hand to hand combat. He tended to use a style of street-fighting that the healer had never really seen before, but then, neither had the demons they fought against, so it worked well. The next village they stopped in, Ken had been ushered to the blacksmith's to find a weapon he could use. He chose a pair of multi-bladed daggers that were designed to curve in an arch around the outside of his knuckles. An odd weapon considering how close it required one to be near one's opponent, but if that was the weapon he was most comfortable with, Hakkai wasn't going to argue.

Despite the weapon and the eerie ease Ken had displayed in battling demons, the longer things remained changed the more tense the air around them seemed to grow. This was the final swap, after all, and pretty much everyone was waiting for the other metaphysical shoe to drop. And they were all expecting it to be quite a large and messy shoe.

After their initial locking of horns, Sanzo and Ken had settled into a remarkably peaceful interaction with each other. It even bordered on civil. The priest was obviously still unsettled and although he would never admit it, even on pain of death, _worried_ about his charge. He had discreetly allowed Hakkai to know the previous evening that he could no longer _feel_ their connection, and the startling silence was beginning to bother him. Or, as the monk had put it '_How the hell am I supposed to keep a handle on the little ingrate if I don't even know what he's doing?_'. Hakkai had to admit that he was worried as well. Seiten Taisei seemed to have just faded away, the shadow of no consequence, which was absurd, since the demon was really the _ultimate_ consequence. To have not so much as an _inkling_ of him was more disturbing than the thought of him wreaking havoc without opposition. Especially given that they'd seen him before for the briefest of moments…although Ken had appeared to be in control at the time. Hakkai had a horrible feeling, that like Kanan, if anything happened, it would already be too late by the time they found out.

From the back of the jeep, Ken suddenly stirred, wrinkling his nose.

"Ugh. What is that _smell_?" he growled, waving a hand in front of his face. His fellow riders regarded him intently, wondering what on earth he was talking about. They had discovered that he did, in fact, have Goku's sense of smell, although it wasn't nearly as useful since half the time Ken didn't know what it was he was smelling. This time proved to be no different. He smelt blood, although the usual ozone scent that seemed to waft from demons beneath the effects of the minus wave did not accompany it. It smelled rather more like….well brimstone. When Sanzo raised his eyebrows expectantly Ken frowned at him.

"Hey man. I'm not a fucking blood hound. It just stinks, that's all. Maybe it's swamp gas or something." he grumbled, still wrinkling his nose. And of course, Hakkai didn't think any of them had gotten used to Goku's cherubic face looking…well looking at the very least it's full eighteen years of age. If they were lucky. Usually, Ken's face inside of Goku's made the youth look ancient. And so cynical.

"Case you haven't noticed man? We're in the desert." Gojyo replied flatly, smoking his umpteenth cancer stick of the morning. Both the priest and the kappa seemed to be smoking more often these days. Hakkai didn't know if he could blame them. Sanzo leaned forward towards Ken's personal space and scowled. Patiently. Ken pulled back a bit, and the healer wanted to chuckle at the role reversal, but he refrained from reminding Sanzo how often he spent time beating Goku OUT of his personal space to suddenly want to be in it all the time.

"What does it smell like?" the monk asked, with what Hakkai felt was very polite restraint. Ken frowned at him, offended by the fact that Sanzo obviously didn't like him, but thankfully refrained from jumping down the blond man's throat.

"Like blood. And brimstone." he grunted. Sanzo blinked. Brimstone? At his somewhat confused expression, a corner of Ken's mouth turned up.

"You know. Sulfur. Hellfire." he elaborated. The monk frowned. What on earth would combine those two scents if they'd already figured out what demons under the minus wave smelled like? Beside him, Hakkai frowned.

"Why, I believe the only man we know who uses any sort of fire is Prince Kougaiji himself." the healer murmured. Sanzo groaned, Gojyo right along with him.

"The absolute _last_ person I want to see right now is his _highness_. " Sanzo grumbled. Gojyo grunted his agreeance. No sooner the words were out of his mouth than a huge fireball erupted in front of Jeep, Hakkai swerving wildly to avoid all of them getting fried to a crisp and coming to a grinding halt not forty paces from the Devil himself. And such a term seemed to fit Kougaiji rather well today. His face was carved into a wicked smirk that bespoke little of good will. Sanzo tensed and Gojyo groaned more loudly this time.

"_Dammit_ can't we catch a friggin' break!?" the Kappa growled, hopping out of the jeep angrily with his weapon ready. Sanzo stepped out of the passenger side as did Hakkai. Ken ambled out last, scowling, and levered a very un-Goku like glare at Kougaiji.

"Who the hell is _this_ asshat?" the brunet growled. Gojyo couldn't help it, his frown of annoyance melted into a loud guffaw as the Kappa hugged his sides in an attempt to contain the mirth. Hakkai put a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle his chuckle and one corner of Sanzo's mouth tugged slightly upwards. After all, it wasn't everyday Goku greeted Kougaiji without the utmost of enthusiasm. Kougaiji blinked. And then his face twisted itself into a very un-Kougaiji like expression. He leered at them.

"Talk of the Devil and he shall appear." he crooned by way of greeting. Hakkai and Sanzo frowned and Gojyo stopped laughing. Of all the things to come out of the Prince's mouth, that was by far one of the oddest. No 'give me the sutra'. Not even a formal recognition as the 'Sanzo ikkou'. In a matter of moments Ken had lost all color, his eyes wide in some sort of recognition. Hakkai sincerely hoped that he had not chosen this moment to get sucked into a vision, but gold eyes were focused coherently on Kougaiji's face. Which had begun to twist itself into a sort of vague recognition as his gaze fixed on Ken's face. The healer did not like the cruelty in the recognition, and neither did Sanzo. The priest stepped between them, disturbed at seeing his charges' face carved into such an expression of terror.

"What do you want?" he barked. Kougaiji's expression twisted itself into a frightening Cheshire Cat's grin.

"Why I only came to play, of course." he remarked, leaning to the side to make eye-contact with Ken again. The brunet blanched and then suddenly a wall of stone seemed to slam down over his features. What happened next happened so fast that no one had an inkling it had even occurred until suddenly Ken and Kougaiji were locked in battle. And Ken was already losing.

It was astounding to watch. Two people that they had gotten so used to fighting and moving so differently. Kougaiji moving quickly and unpredictably; cat-like, Ken wild like a wolf, more defensive than offensive and so unlike Goku it was almost a shock to the mind. They came in close, Ken's blades against a sword that Kougaiji had thought to pull out from somewhere, and the Demon Prince leaned into Ken's personal space.

"Well well….You certainly seem to know _me_….But I can't seem to figure out who _you_ are….I'll bet I can guess though. Won't you give me a little hint? This is all so terribly unfair. …" Ken blanched again and nearly lost an eye before he managed to disengage himself and duck at just the right moment. He bounded backwards more like a frightened rabbit than a fearless warrior.

He would recognize that cocky attitude and creepy smile _anywhere_. Even on a different face. Even in a different mind. What he didn't understand, however, was the reason Mastermind didn't recognize him – fully anyways. Thank any deities who happened to be listening for really, really _huge_ favors. It also appeared, that in this body, mind-control was unavailable to the telepath. Thank the gods for even _bigger_ favors. Readying himself, he brought his claws up, trying to settle his nerves. Trying to ignore the million other implications and risks that his mind had already begun frantically calculating as soon as he had realized the truth, Ken tried in vain gain his bearings. He was pretty sure that shortly he wasn't going to even be able to defend himself from Schuldig. He didn't even want to _think_ about the _rest_ of his companions. He was understandably surprised when a gunshot suddenly echoed across the desert landscape, drawing that Cheshire Cat's smile towards a very disgruntled looking Sanzo. He was further surprised when Emerald green silk suddenly blocked his view.

"You're not Kougaiji." It was not a question, and Sanzo _definitely_ did not sound happy. The Demon Prince straightened.

"What would make you say such a silly thing?" there was a nasal mocking in the Prince's voice that made Ken cringe. Generally, he really preferred to stick with Berserker. He understood bloodlust. The German's brand of perverted sadism, however, got under his skin. Ken was counting his lucky stars that the man seemed to be somewhat crippled in his abilities. Although the Gods knew what other sorts of abilities he had gained.

Sanzo did not dignify the question with a response. He simply grunted.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, other than a pervert, so you'd better state your business or get the Hell away from me. I don't deal with perverts. I kill them."

Ken squared his shoulders, coming to the side of Hakkai and crossing his arms to watch cautiously. Sanzo's group could certainly manage themselves, but he'd be _damned_ if he was going to allow them to protect him from his own enemy.

Kougaiji's body seemed to relax in pose, and the German cocked a crimson hued head. "Well _that_'_s_ awfully rude of you." he remarked, frowning playfully. "I don't think I deserved that remark." Ken didn't wait. He moved. Everything blurred for a second as he felt himself intercept the German's attack, and when he could see straight again, Kougaiji's body was gingerly picking itself up off the sand, that merry, chilling expression now a dark, foreboding one. The promise in that face froze Ken's blood.

"_That_ was _very_ rude. " he growled low. And charged. Ken had barely managed to bring his arms up in defense before he was flat on his back, the world spinning after the air rushing out of his lungs. _Shit_…not good. Who usually fought Schuldig? Yohji, right? Weiss needed to work on that… The brunet struggled to his feet and charged forward blindly, feeling a surge of triumph when his shoulder connected with a bare, hard stomach, and he kept pushing, taking them both to the ground. He hardly had time to get in a punch, however, before a clawed hand was at his throat, shoving him back into a painfully arched position, the dominance of the hold clear even though he was the one straddling the German.

"_Well_." Schuldig panted, smirk back in place with a hint more malice behind it. "It seems I've caught myself a little animal. Whatever shall I do with it?" he crooned, tightening his hold and forcing Ken's arch backwards painfully as he sat himself up fully. The brunet was forced to keep his arms on the sand beneath him to support the painful position or risk breaking his knees and spine. Which left him wide-open and vulnerable to attack. _Fuck_. He _really_ hated Schuldig. Before the red-head could even pull his small dagger out, however, he jerked back suddenly, letting go of his strangle hold to avoid loosing his arm. A crecent blade that Ken dimly recognized as Gojyo's slid back between them, and Ken could feel the air rushing forth with the blade as he fell backwards, off-balanced. He leapt up quickly and staggered clumsily back. Several gunshots had Schuldig leaping back as well, an aggravated expression on his face. A pair of hands steadied Ken as he came to a stop and he looked over his shoulder and up to see Hakkai's stern expression focused not on himself but his enemy. Schuldig took one look at the serious faces surrounding him and tsked. He was gone before they could react, leaving only the echo of a promise that this would not be the last time they met.

No sooner had he vanished than the same tense expressions turned to Ken.

"Are you injured?" Hakkai inquired politely. Ken frowned, shaking his head and pulling gently at a sore shoulder.

"I'm uhhh…..good thanks." he replied sheepishly, now rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

"So obviously Princey isn't feeling like himself today." Gojyo quipped, trying to lighten the mood. Sanzo grunted, his expression trained on Ken, trying to erase the sight of Goku being held by the throat in such a vulnerable position, fear in his eyes.

"Indeed." Hakkai agreed from somewhere to his left. Ken fidgeted. "It would appear that you happen to know him, however, which is odd considering he is one of _our_ enemies." the healer murmured. Ken flinched.

"Ahhh….I don't know about that." he replied, voice low. He squirmed when several sets of eyes narrowed. After a tense moment of silence he released a great sigh, stilling. "I'm sorry. I should've been more prepared than that. I was just….very surprised to see someone outside of Weiss here. I don't think that's a good sign." the brunet began. Sanzo's scowl deepened.

"Who _is_ he!?" the priest growled, impatient. Ken scowled right back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mastermind. There is an opposing force set against Weiss called Schwartz. They're a group of…._talents_ I guess you can call them. Mastermind can read other peoples' minds. Although he doesn't seem to be able to do so in whoever's body that is." he elaborated. Hakkai frowned, bringing a hand to his chin.

"A mind reader?" he questioned, looking disturbed. Gojyo blinked, coming to stand beside Hakkai.

"You said talent_s_. What else?" Sanzo grunted. Ken sent him a glare but cooperated for the benefit of all.

"There is a man who can predict the future, a man who cannot feel pain, and a boy who can move things with his thoughts." he finished. Gojyo couldn't help it; he started laughing.

"Haha! You guys are fighting the Fantastic Four?!" he chuckled, slapping his knee. Hakkai frowned at him and Sanzo glared. Ken pouted, putting his hands on his hips.

"Hey fuck you asshole! You've never fought them! You have no idea what it's like." the brunet shot back, offended. He shivered unconsciously, remembering the expressions on Schuldig's face, different body or not. Hakkai put his hand to his chin again.

"Then by default, shouldn't Weiss have some sort of abilities? Even Sanzo, the only human in our group, has powers of a supernatural means. Surely Weiss must have something of that nature to their disposal?" the healer questioned. Ken laughed bitterly, his expression twisting for a moment.

"If only…" he murmured, shaking his head slowly. "Weiss has skill. And very mortal, normal weapons." The other three stared at him and Ken shifted uncomfortably. "It's _true_." he grumbled, tugging idly at the cuffs on his wrists. "And anyways, the only reason Weiss is probably still alive is due to the fact that Schwartz has other objectives outside of kicking our asses." he finished. When it came to Schwartz, Ken was by no means proud. They were truly out-mobbed and out-gunned in that area, and it galled him to Hell that Weiss was at the heart of some sort of sadistic game for the other four.

"And those objectives would be?" Sanzo grunted. Ken frowned.

"Fuck if I know. They're constantly talking about anarchy, but they seem to have some kind of higher plan they're following. If my boss was a friggin' visionary I'd probably be following a higher plan too." the brunet grumped again, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Judging by your recent performance, I'd say you don't have any plan." the priest snapped. Ken turned to face him, eyes full of fury.

"Hey fuck off dickhead! I'd like to see _you_ stand five minutes against Mastermind. You _all_ should be counting your goddamn lucky stars that he can't give you a mindfuck this way, or we'd _all_ be _dead_ right now. Besides, I usually handle Berserker. Mastermind gives me the fucking _creeps_."

"Berserker?" Hakkai asked tentatively, since Ken's mood seemed to have plummeted. Not that the healer could blame him.

"Yeah. The guy who can't feel any pain. It's like trying to step on a cockroach in your socks. " the brunet muttered, wrinkling his nose. "But at least he's easy to understand. I mean, it's just battle. Mastermind's a sadistic fuck. He'll twist you inside and out and get high off of how badly he fucks you up." Sanzo, Gojyo, and Hakkai frowned collectively.

"So let me get this straight – Kougaiji has been replaced by someone who's only goal is to mess with people for his own pleasure?" Gojyo asked, all lightness gone from his voice.

"Basically." Ken replied.

"The last thing we fucking need is another pervert around here. This was hard enough as it was with the fucking swap going on." Sanzo growled. Hakkai nodded.

"Ken, perhaps you should tell us anything you can remember about any of these people that will help us." the healer prompted gently. Ken sighed.

"Sure, whatever you want."

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Goku was bouncing a soccer ball idly on his knees, back and forth, back and forth, trying to escape the stillness of Ken's room. The pattern ended when he stepped on some kind of small doll and lost his balance, landing painfully on his tail bone. With a growl and a sigh he surveyed the room around him, rubbing his sore rear. Ken sure kept a messy room. He'd always had to keep his room clean at the temple. Sanzo kicked the crap out of him if he didn't. On the journey west, he had very little to keep clean, so this new messy room thing was a fresh concept. He wondered idly if he'd keep a messy room given the choice. Probably.

The brunet didn't really understand where everyone had gone. He knew they were assassins, but not like the assassins Kougaiji sent, who were usually as subtle in their attacks as a tap-dancing elephant. Weiss was different, sleeker, smarter, and very good at what they did, which Goku supposed made sense since they were supposed to be equal to the Sanzo-ikkou. But now he was sitting here in this room, waiting for Aya to come get him, and wondering what everyone was doing. Wondering why he couldn't go too. He _had_ cleaned the kitchen up afterall, with Yohji's help, but Aya was absolutely firm that he not leave Ken's apartment. And it was _so _boring here!

He had stood himself back up, and was bouncing the ball again when it flew suddenly out of it's predicted orbit and landed hard on a nearby desk, sending various items scattering everywhere and stirring up an enormous clamor. He noticed a grayish piece of paper covered in tiny black writing floating down slowly. There was a large picture on the front of someone that looked vaguely like his current reflection, so Goku reached out to snag it.

The moment he did, the world blanked out.

OOOoooOOO

When he came-to, he was picking himself up off the grass, spitting dirt, and trying to figure out why his vision was swimming. _Get up Hidaka! What the Hell is wrong with you!? _Someone echoed in his brain. It took him a moment to realize the voice wasn't his. It was the voice that came out of his mouth while he was Ken.

Something came flying through the air at about the same speed of one of Sanzo's bullets and whizzed right past his head, slamming into the netting around him. Goku blinked and turned around, recognizing the soccer ball laying in the dirt behind him. There was an enormous roaring around him, but he couldn't really figure out what it was; his vision was too blurry. Things kept doubling and tripling on him. It felt like one of those nightmares that couldn't be escaped. To Goku, anything that deprived him of his senses was terrifying. If he couldn't see or think or hear straight, it usually meant that he wasn't himself. Literally.

The following fifteen minutes were agonizing. Goku realized, dimly, that he was living vicariously through Ken. He had no control over his body, and he could hear the brunet crying out frantically within his own mind, terrified at what was happening, not understanding why he suddenly couldn't prevent a goal to save his life. Goku didn't know how to play soccer, but he'd figured out enough despite the confusion to know that the ball probably wasn't supposed to be flying _past_ them. Ken kept wondering if he were sick, if he had a tumor, _any_ explanation for his current disability.

Goku knew after the first ten minutes that Ken'd been drugged. Heavily. His body felt the way Goku's did after Hakkai gave him medicine those times he'd well and truly gotten his ass handed to him. Mostly by Homura.

Eventually, it ended. The game was over. The accusations and humiliations that followed Goku barely understood, living in a world where major sporting events of this nature hadn't really existed and athletes weren't equal to celebrities. He understood enough to know how badly it hurt Ken. How the wrongness of what had happened, and Ken's frantic search for the man who had set him up tore the young man up inside. How the empty-handedness he had in the face of his accusations, his inability to prove his innocence, killed him. He could never play soccer again. It haunted his every waking moment, pursued him in his nightmares.

Everything ended in a horrible fire, the loss of Ken's best buddy the crowning finish to a life that had been utterly ruined in a matter of months. Really, in a matter of moments. Goku tried to wrap his own mind around it, affected by the urgency of Ken's emotions to just know _why_. _Why_ he had been the epicenter of such a cruel game.

The memories that followed blurred. Ken was rescued by Weiss. It gave him the opportunity to leave his past behind, the way Hakkai had consented to the death of Cho Gonou Goku supposed. But he had a feeling that _Siberian_ was a lousy substitute for Hidaka Ken, and that Ken couldn't hide or banish his former life any more than Hakkai could behind those fake smiles of his. Goku hated those smiles.

Gradually, Goku felt when Ken began to recover himself. First with all the kids he played with, and then eventually with….Ran. Aya. Ran was Aya, but Ken called him Ran. Ran was like the _sun_ to Ken. Like Sanzo. And Ran loved Ken too. Ran loved Ken _back_. Sanzo…well Sanzo wasn't the same, to be sure, but as Goku felt himself drifting away in the warmth and security of Ran's arms, softly whispered words of comfort and reassurance echoing in his ears, he realized that he wished more than anything that Sanzo would. Maybe someday.

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Ken woke with a start, blinking to clear his fuzzy vision. He felt _horrible_. Like he had the worst hangover of the century, although he was pretty sure he hadn't been drinking. With a groan, he clutched at his skull with two hands, rolling over, and curling into a fetal position.

Goku had….his memories were awful, and Ken was just so grateful he only had a maximum of a hundred or so years on the planet. A hundred or so that relied on him being able to nurture bodily functions. Five hundred years was a long time. And it was longer still for Goku. Who thankfully could no longer remember his birth, or his life before heaven. The freedom and beauty of it. Who could also no longer remember exactly _what_ had transpired in heaven to land him with his awful punishment. Even if the punishment in itself had been an act of mercy. He shuddered, feeling ill at the remembrance of blood. At the rage of Seiten Taisei, justifiable rage, if Ken had any opinion on it. At the terror of Goku, who often wondered if he would some day wake up back in that cave, with no memory of Hakkai's kindness, Gojyo's teasing, or Sanzo's constant presence to carry him through.

With another groan, Ken turned, gingerly putting his hands beneath him to lever himself into a sitting position. His arms shook beneath the weight, and he nearly collapsed, but a pair of strong arms wrapped around him suddenly, supporting him.

"Take it easy. You've had a rough night." a familiar voice soothed.

"R-Ran?" Ken muttered, sitting up slowly and clutching at his head. He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut. Oh Gods, he felt like crap. Already the memories he'd shared with Goku were dissipating, leaving only the foul ache in his head behind them.

"Ken?" his lover sounded surprised and hopeful.

"Yeah." Ken grunted. The gentle embrace turned into a hug and Ken turned his face, burrowing it into the juncture between Ran's neck and shoulder, taking in his lover's scent. "Nnn…Missed you." he murmured. Ran sighed.

"Missed you too." he replied, tightening his hold. They sat in silence for a moment until Ken stirred, moaning again.

"We've got a problem." He grunted. Ran sighed again, this time sounding slightly annoyed.

"On top of everything else?" he grumped. Ken nodded against him.

"Schwartz is swapping too. I had a run in with Mastermind while I was out." Ran stiffened beside him.

"And…?" he asked slowly.

"And I almost didn't make it out, I was so shocked. " Ran's hold tightened further. "I told them everything I could to prepare them, but I don't know much at all. Ran, we've gotta talk about this with the rest of Weiss. It's about time we started exchanging battle strategies. I had no idea how to fight Mastermind, since I'm usually against Berserker. "

"Hn." Ran agreed. He didn't like this at all. Things had suddenly become more dangerous than ever.

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Whew!!

An update! An update!! Yes, I fully and freely admit that I coped-out on Goku's memories since I really don't want to start elaborating theories as to what happened in heaven. Minekura-san has only given a few hints, and I really don't have the time and energy to play with them. Guess we'll just have to wait for Gaiden, ne?

My wonderous thanks and heartfelt appreciation to all those who read and review my stories. Especially for your patience. I will see this story through. Edo too. I just may do it after a tortoise fashion, in direct opposition to the hare pace I initially set up when I was living in Japan and spent my days doing nothing at work most of the time. I'm now getting a 2nd job and studying for the Praxis I test. Wish me luck!!


	15. Because so Much is Riding on Your Tires

**Chapter 15 **

' **Because so much is riding on your tires…'**

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A week had flown by, uneventful. A full week. The almost unnatural silence and serenity had Yohji on edge. He was smoking twice his usual amount, and despite Omi's nagging, Ken's snide remarks and Aya's barking he couldn't seem to stop. In fact, their tense ire only made him crave the nicotine _more_ than he already was. He knew it was bad for him, but every time his quite thoroughly shredded conscience tried to pull a health argument on him it was dismissed in the face of the threat life as an assassin posed to his health; which was by far the greater of the two. The only reason his beer consumption hadn't increased was due to his rather large commitment to vanity.

He couldn't take this. Technically if they were going in order, Aya was due for the next swap, but they didn't know anything for sure really, and no forgone conclusions had been reached about anything yet. It was worse than being a PI with only a hunch to start him on a case. Which made him think of Asuka, which strangely, made him think of Hakkai, which gave him a weird, home-sickly feeling that felt so out of place in Yohji's life he almost didn't recognize it at first. Which also contributed to his current attempts at setting the world record for total number of single cigarettes to be chain-smoked in an hour. Ken cast him a derisive look as he headed outside yet again, but the soccer-player only shook his head and refrained from commenting, thank the Gods.

Outside the day was grey and foggy, moisture heavy and low in the air. His cigarette smoke camouflaged itself in the air above his head, and no one paid attention to him as they passed by the shop. Yohji felt almost like a phantom, not really existing, not really here, nothing worth seeing or feeling or touching. Kudo Yohji was a shadow, existing only to hide the stark terror of Balinese. Here in the grey light of afternoon, on a break from being both men, he felt a queer sort of in-between; a wraith.

Shaking his head ruefully, his finished his cigarette in record time, hustling back into the shop with a brief shudder of displeasure. Ken, on shift with him, looked up again, smirking at his entrance.

"Something wrong?" he prodded teasingly. Yohji coughed.

"It's freaking damp as hell out there." he grumbled. "I don't even know why we open on days like this. It's pointless." Ken only smiled, shaking his head.

"You never know who might want some flowers to cheer up their day. Or to make up for being an asshole, which probably makes up half the population of our actual _paying _customers. And besides, if it's so damp out maybe you'll stop smoking so freaking much. You're going to make yourself sick." here Ken ended with a concerned frown. Although a small little rush of pleasure crept over his skin at the show of another's care, Yohji ignored it, favoring Ken with a trademark roguish grin as he tossed his hair aside errantly.

"Nothing can keep me from this sexy habit baby. The ladies love how badass it makes me look. " he crowed. Ken snorted.

"Yeah. Nothing says sexy like a mouth full of tobacco stains, or that attractive, wheezing cough." he quipped. Yohji glared at him.

"Some people have no vision." he muttered, heading to check on the stock of stems in the cooler. Ken blinked at his retreating back.

"_I_ have no vision!?" he muttered to no one in particular.

"Heard that." Yohji groused, sticking his head in the cooler to begin his task. Ken simply shook his head. He knew the playboy was on edge – they all were. It was hard not to be tense and upset when you knew so little in such a dangerous situation. It didn't help Ken any that it was Ran's turn again. He'd only just been reunited with his lover, and Ken wasn't looking forward to sharing any kind of close quarters with Sanzo again. But really, out of all the bad habits to lean into for comfort, smoking had to be one of the worst. Just thinking about Yohji's endurance and physical prowess on their next mission made Ken wince. But then again, riding him for it only made the other brunet do it more often, so really the best thing to do was simply give him some space to do what he needed to do to make it through. They all had things that carried them, and Ken had no right to try and cut Yohji off from his, unhealthy though it was.

Although since the playboy had taken his umpteenth cigarette break, Ken felt he was more than entitled to take his lunch break. Finally.

"Yohji. I'm going out for lunch. You want anything?" he called, untying his apron. Yohji pulled his head out of the cooler and blinked at Ken slowly, as if he were just coming back to himself. Ken could practically see the last count he'd left off at dancing through his head as he attempted to keep his place.

"Where're you going?" he asked, the sound rolling from his mouth almost lazily. Ken shrugged.

"I don't know. Probably the bento place up the street. " Yohji nodded, and reached into his back pocket, digging out his wallet. He unfolded it and pulled a 1000 yen bill out, handing it to Ken.

"How about Unagi Donburi?" he asked. Ken nodded, folding the bill and sticking it in his pocket.

"Ok. Drink?" he asked.

"Um. Coffee. Can you stop at Doutour?" he asked. " I want a mocha-latte." Ken scowled at him, but nodded. Yohji and his girly drinks. Although, the chill day called for it he supposed. Yohji flashed him a charming grin. "Thanks buddy." Ken nodded again and threw on his old leather jacket, heading for the door. It ruang merrily as he headed out into the fog, heralding his departure.

Alone, Yohji sighed heavily and went back to counting the stems in the cooler. What a gloomy afternoon this was turning out to be.

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Sanzo was getting that weird feeling again. The one that usually preceded the next episode of 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'. That he had already experienced the sensation previously to recognize it now did nothing to improve the monk's humor, which was, in fact, exceptionally foul this particular morning. At least the bloody headache wasn't so bad this time.

The others knew something was up. They weren't blind to the fact that they'd just sped through a calm, uneventful seven days. Without Gyumaoh's assassins or even the demon prince himself dropping in for tea. Weird as he was now. Needless to say, the longer time marched on without so much as an insight as to what had caused that awful blind-side the previous weeks the more tense and nervous everyone became. The added side-effect of Gojyo and Goku not arguing due to nervousness wasn't helping either. It reduced Sanzo's stress target count dramatically. Hakkai kept waiting for the sun to drop out of the sky and swallow them all. It certainly seemed to fit right in with the current events.

Beside him and in the gap between the front seats, Goku was hovering over Sanzo without trying to look like he was hovering over Sanzo. The monk was blatantly ignoring this, but seemed to be giving Goku attention without actually giving him attention on the other hand, which made the scene quite odd. Although the Healer supposed that since Goku had returned to his body recently the monk had been quite affectionate – for Sanzo, anyway, which basically meant that he didn't yell as loudly or hit as hard. A lot more seemed to be sliding past him these days, but that could also be due to the fact that they hadn't been attacked and Goku and Gojyo were quiet. Hakkai truly hoped that in the face of losing his companions (permanently or temporarily), the monk was truly becoming more appreciative of what he had.

Although right now, Hakkai was willing to bet a great deal that their previous calm was about to break. Sanzo's eyebrow began twitching. Everyone in the car moved away from him as if he were a time bomb bent on exploding. But that wasn't the _truly_ frightening thing.

As they watched, the golden blond of his hair suddenly appeared to take on a fiery hue beneath the sun's rays. In a few moments it was a deep, blood-red tone, its texture fine and shining. Goku's mouth dropped open. It was at this time Hakkai felt it appropriate to stop the car. Sanzo turned and glared at him, but there were already subtle changes in his eyes and with the hair Hakkai about jumped out of the jeep for what he surely should have smiled off.

"Why did you stop dammit!? Or did you forget where we were going?" the priest snarled. The snarl softened into a frown at the way no one seemed to hear what he was saying. They just kept…well, _staring_ at him. He idled for an uncomfortable moment or two before he could no longer keep his cool.

"What the hell is wrong with all of you!? " he growled. Hakkai jerked suddenly, seeming coming back to himself, and straightened.

"You might want to take a look in here." the hHealer murmured, swiveling the rear-view mirror to angle at Sanzo's face and head by way of response. Sanzo blinked. He held a hand that was already getting paler than usual up to blood-red locks before sliding them down to brush delicately against slanted, feline eyes whose violet was also lighghtentening. He opened his mouth to say something intelligent, and felt himself slip away instead.

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It was some uneventful, customer-free minutes later that Yohji pulled himself out of the freezer at the sound of footsteps. Without bothering to look at his visitor, Yohji grunted a greeting, placing the last couple buckets of stems carefully on the floor in the refrigerator.

"I was wondering when you'd come down. Ken went out to get lunch. I thought he would be back by now, but you know him. If you call his cell you can probably snag him and add on to the order." he muttered, straightening and closing the door with a sigh. When dead silence greeted him, he turned, huffing, to confront Aya.

Or who should have been Aya, anyways. In fact, Aya was not there at all. Yohji Kudo felt his jaw slide south as he took in the quite intimidating presence of one Genjyo, Sanzo, the 31st of China. In full priestly regalia. Somehow, the monk looked as shocked as Yohji felt, and he dimly recognized the bell chiming somewhere in the background. The silence was shattered by a small, quavering "Oh my!", and both men turned their heads to regard a doddering old woman who looked on the verge of heart attack. She clutched her granny purse in two wrinkled little hands and gave a little gasp.

"Oh my!"

And she ran out.

Yohji and Sanzo turned to look at one another again, this time both wearing frowns of trepidation. Sanzo reached into a sleeve and pulled a cigarette out of his pack with his lips.

"There isn't any smoking allowed in the shop." Yohji began automatically. Sanzo scowled at him and lit up anyways. The playboy, however, was still far too shocked to be annoyed.

"It looks like things are getting worse." Sanzo began offhandedly. Yohji nodded in aggreance.

"No kidding. Wait till KenKen gets back. He's gonna throw a bird." Sanzo frowned, turning his head to stare out at the gloomy, foggy day.

"Tough shit for him." Another patron walked in, took one look at Sanzo's clothing, and the sight of his cigarette, and walked right back out again. "I'm going to change before some idiot has a coronary." he growled, stalking back upstairs.

"I'm gonna call Ken and Omi and let them know what's going on." Yohji replied blankly, looking completely perplexed. Sanzo snorted but said nothing, heading back up the stairs.

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Aya had been in the middle of cooking lunch when the funny 'out of body' feeling began to throb gently at the back of his mind. By the time he sat down to _eat_ lunch, he was gone before he could even get the first bite into his mouth. That wasn't the most shocking thing about it all, however.

No, the shock came this time from the fact that he was still…well…_himself_. He hadn't swapped bodies this time; he'd swapped places. He held on to the silver lining of Ken at least realizing he was someone else, which was a plus in any case. And well, at least this time he got to keep his own body. And fuck-all if the desert wasn't a hot place when you were wearing a black turtle-neck sweater. With a grunt, he pulled it over his head so that he was sitting in his wife-beater and fitted jeans, which he fervently wished were linen pants instead. In white. Everyone else was still staring at him in shock. He scowled back.

"At least I got to keep my body this time." he muttered aloud. Goku looked crestfallen. Sanzo was gone from him _completely_ this time. Hakkai simply nodded.  
"Well….I think it's time for a lunch break, yes?" he addressed the group cheerily. He received several affirmative grunts in answer, and they made their resting spot under a nearby tree. They all ate in contemplative silence, the three regular companions unable to keep their eyes from straying in curiosity and shock over Aya's form. He looked too refined, even sitting in an undertank and jeans. Sanzo could have that sort of porcelain, ethereal beauty at times, but life on the road had left its mark on him; roughened him around the edges so that he fit into the landscape. Sitting there with his pale arms draped over his knees, with his long, elegant legs folded casually, Aya looked like the fairytale Prince of a far-off, wealthy kingdom that had somehow gotten mixed-up in the wrong story book adventure. He ate slowly and carefully, taking small bites and chewing thoughtfully.

Hakkai was willing to bet he was thinking long and hard on his circumstances. Clearing his throat, the healer decided to broach the subject with the group. Now that Sanzo was no longer present, they could take a bit more time with this, which was important.

"Perhaps whatever is causing this swapping problem has escalated." the healer began gently. Startled violet eyes snapped up to his face; Aya hadn't realized how transparent he had looked while thinking. Gojyo and Goku looked over at him as well, their faces revealing a grim nervousness uncharacteristic of both men.

"It would seem that way. The question is, how far is this going to go, and to what end?" the half-breed muttered, flicking away a small pile of cigarette ash with a single gesture. Goku looked gravely thoughtful, and for a moment the healer wondered if Ken had come back.

"I bet it's going to get worse. I don't think it's going to stop until we figure out what's causing it. I wonder if it has anything to do with our mission West? Are you guys doing anything important there?" Goku asked, turning towards Aya. The red-head frowned for a moment.

"Weiss is a small organization attached to Kritiker. Our missions are to take-down criminals that escape the law. Usually they are of the most deplorable kinds." He replied. Gojyo snorted.

"Okay, so you're the long arm of the law. I'm not seeing the connection between taking down a demon king and a group of assassins. As shitty as this quest is, it's still a _quest_. From the Gods, I might add. And I don't think that's what this Weiss group is doing." he remarked, flicking his cigarette again. Hakkai frowned.

"I believe you are not digging deeply enough here Gojyo. Surely, you must realize that we are similar to Weiss in our 'long arm of the law' status. What are we, after all, but a group of hired mercenaries with instructions to take-down one very large overlord? And his minions? I believe we are all more similar than you realize. Both groups are charged with maintaining the balance of their worlds to some degree." Aya grunted thoughtfully.

"Then perhaps there is a common goal we are being brought together to seek?" he asked slowly. "Perhaps if we conveyed the exact details of our assigned 'missions'?" Hakkai nodded in thoughtful agreement. Goku scrunched his brows together in concentration.

"Well, we know about the Kogaiji-tachi. If they're swapping with Schwartz like Ken thinks they are, that's gotta be part of it too…Think the bad guys are trying to gang up on us?" the youth remarked, stumbling over the German villains' name.

"If they are, it doesn't make sense that they'd be bringing us into it. Far better to team up and conquer one dimension at a time with half the opposition. But you're right Goku. That's a very important consideration we hadn't yet added to this." Aya replied carefully. Gojyo blinked, uncurling one of his legs to shove at the monkey in question with his foot.

"The baby chimp is thinking now? Since when!?" he exclaimed. Goku growled, grabbing at his leg and yanking hard on it, sending Gojyo sprawling backwards.

"I am _not_ a friggin' monkey, and _dammit_ I can too think!!" he yelled back. Gojyo came up sputtering, and wasted no time getting to his feet and getting in Goku's face.

"You haven't done too great a job on this trip so far!" he bellowed back.

"Fuck you! It's not like _you're_ some kind of genius either, you perverted roach!" the youth yelled right back, arms out, body posture becoming more aggressive by the minute. Gojyo's face got a little redder, his hands on his hips now.

"I'm smarter than you ya dumb monkey! And goddamnit, don't call me a cockroach!"

"Why not? That's what you are!"

"Those are some big words for such a puny monkey cub!"

"At least I'm not a pink-haired pansy!"

"_GODDAMNIT_, my hair is _RED_, for the _LAST TIME_!"

"Oohhh….a _colorblind_ pansy!"

"Alright! That's it! I've had enough of your damn mouth you shitty little monkey!"

"Aargh! Don't bite-off more than you can chew shit-head!"

If anything else was said, it was unintelligible to the two men looking on as words degenerated into blows between the two. Hakkai smiled sunnily.

"My my, it's such a comfort to have some things remain normal." he remarked good-naturedly. Aya frowned.

"Hn. Speak for yourself. I don't know how we're going to solve anything working with two animals this low on the evolutionary scale." he grumbled. Hakkai nodded in pleasant agreeance. With a deep sigh, the red head pinched the bridge of his nose, sueezingsqueezing his eyes shut. Despite the light-hearted moment, he really was worried. His entire body had switched. He didn't want to think about how high this upped the consequences. Or what would happen when Manx or Persia caught wind of an imposter staying in his room. This was bad. This was very bad. Aya sincerely hoped the rest of Weiss came up with a way to take care of that. Or things had the potential to get much worse.

Aya suddenly wished he hadn't eaten so much for lunch.

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Ken growled, punching the wall again for good measure. Beside him, Omi grabbed his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Ken-kun." he murmured, trying to be reassuring. It didn't have the desired effect.

"God dammnit! When Manx finds out, and you _know_ she will, we're going to be so _fucked_!" the brunet bellowed. Beside him, Yohji winced. The former goalie's knuckles were starting to get bloody. If someone didn't calm him down soon, he was going to really hurt himself. And then when Aya finally came back, he'd be bitchy about it to everyone else. A hand reached out with lightening speed and grabbed Ken's wrist before those same knuckles could collide with the wall again. Omi tried hard not to look relieved.

"Stop being an idiot." Sanzo muttered calmly. Yohji braced himself, ready for an outburst of Ken-temper, but surprisingly, the brunet's shoulders only sank in defeat. Sanzo released his wrist gently and Ken cradled the injured hand in his palm, his face shadowed.

"I'm sorry. I just…this makes things really dangerous." He murmured. "If Kritiker can't find us to be stable, trustworthy, or reliable, then they won't have a use for us. And if Kritiker doesn't have a use for us…" he trailed off quietly. Both Yohji and Omi had paled. Sanzo frowned at them.

"I'm perfectly capable of seeing to whatever it is that Aya needs to do." he remarked with a scowl, not liking the implied threat behind Ken's statement. Omi swallowed.

"Sanzo-san, it's not that simple. Our work is very top-secret, high-priority. Kritiker will most certainly feel that it has been compromised if one of their members keeps disappearing and reappearing, and leaving a complete stranger in his place. They'll view their security as breached, and seek to eliminate the problem." the youth replied carefully. Sanzo's scowl increased in intensity and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"'Eliminate the problem'…meaning they'll come after you?" he asked, wanting to clarify.

"They'll torture us for any information we've been potentially withholding from them and then kill us." Yohji stated bluntly. Omi flinched, and both he and Ken turned to stare at the lanky playboy. Yohji had crossed his arms as well, and despite his casual pose leaning against the wall, his face was dead serious, emerald eyes intense as their sights focused on Sanzo.

"Yohji-kun! We don't know that!" Omi admonished. The lanky man snorted derisively.

"Hate to tell you kiddo, but our lives aren't worth _shit_ to Kritiker." he replied in a lazy drawl. Omi looked ready to protest, but Ken cut him off with a short, bitter laugh.

"He's right Omi. They'll find someone else desperate enough and dirty enough to take our places. We're going to have to figure this one out on our own. " he grunted cynically. Sanzo tried to ignore the roiling in his gut. It was one thing to have to worry about body swapping and the dangers of suddenly becoming someone else in an intense or threatening situation. It was another thing entirely when something as serious as fatal punishment became the result of this little game. And while he wasn't a patient, or compassionate man by far, nor did he put any credence in justice or fairness, he'd be damned if that sort of punishment rested on _his_ shoulders. Nevermind the consequence this could mean for his own little rag-tag team. Just trying to map out the effect of swapping into or out of a body that was dead gave him pains. Something needed to be done. Quickly. In the silence that followed, Omi heaved a heavy sigh.

"Alright. Let me think about this for a little bit. Hopefully Manx won't swing by with a mission any time soon. Maybe I can petition for a vacation, or something. The Gods know we're long overdue for one. We can stay at Villa Weiss or something. I'll make it work." he murmured nervously. Yohji smiled tiredly and clapped a hand on the youth's shoulder.

"Don't wear yourself out Omittitchi. The jock and I here will do some creative thinking too. Let's meet up tomorrow at breakfast, ok? Make sure you're well rested." Omi didn't miss the hint in the statement that he should get some sleep, but he ignored it. He could operate on amazing little amounts of sleep. Yohji gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading up the stairs. Ken gave him a pat on the back next.

"We're in this together Omi. Don't stay up all night ok? We'll think of something." the brunet remarked good naturedly. Omi nodded, feeling somewhat shy suddenly. Was he so predictable?

"I won't Ken-kun. Please take care of your hand." he replied, smiling softly. Ken nodded.

"Yeah. I'll put something on it. G'night Omi." And then Ken turned and walked up the stairs and he was left with Sanzo and the monk's intense stare. But to his surprise, the gaze wasn't critical.

" Your teammates seem to think you will put this all on your own shoulders." he began. Omi nodded and opened his mouth to reply, but Sanzo cut him off.

"Don't. It's an insult to your friends and teammates to try and take all the work. You should trust them to do their part. Afterall, you must trust them to guard your back in battle. This should be no different. Goodnight." so saying, Sanzo turned, walking up the stairs. Omi stared up after him in shock for a moment before turning to blink at his surroundings. With another heavy sigh, he turned, heading up towards his room and his private computer. The only computer that was inaccessible to Kritiker. He wasn't sure if he knew how to do _less_ than everything. But maybe it was time to try. He was, afterall, already exhausted.

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Sanzo made his way upstairs, but instead of heading for Aya's room, he knocked at Ken's door. It opened after a moment, to reveal Ken standing in his boxers and a long-sleeved tee, an unreadable expression on his face. The brunet's momentary surprise at seeing him was swallowed up by a darker emotion after a moment, and Sano decided he didn't like the expression on Ken's face at all.

"Sanzo." the man said, by way of greeting. Sanzo grunted, gesturing towards Ken's apartment with his chin.

"Can I come in?" he asked, with admirable civility. Surprise flickered across Ken's face again, but he stood to the side hesitantly, opening the door a little wider.

"Uh…sure." he replied with uncharacteristic shyness. Sanzo stepped inside gingerly, aware almost immediately of the state of Ken's apartment. Ken looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously. The behavior made Sanzo curious. Ken had been so voracious and defensive in Shangrila. He hadn't been afraid or ashamed or hesitant of anything. It made no sense to Sanzo that he would feel the need to be so uncertain on his home-turf.

"I'm ahh…sorry about the mess. I'm…not the neatest person." Sanzo refrained from snorting. He was unsure as to Ken's reaction in this different state of emotion he seemed to be in.

"It isn't a big deal. How is your hand?" the priest asked instead, gesturing towards the injured limb with his chin again. It was, after all, the reason he had come. Apparently Aya had felt that although Ken was fine with caring for others, he was rather clumsy at caring for himself. Ken was cradling his wounded knuckles in his other hand, and he blushed red when Sanzo asked, embarrassed for some reason.

"Oh, uh…it's no big deal or anything. I'm ummm…kind of rash sometimes." he replied hesitantly. Sanzo frowned.

"Let me see it." he said slowly, holding out a calloused palm. He expected an argument. He expected Ken to get indignant. Instead, Ken carefully extended his hand into Sanzo's grasp. It was trembling slightly. And suddenly, Sanzo could place the expression on Ken's face. He was frightened. Not of Sanzo. But of his future. Of the future of his comrades. Of the future of Aya, the man he loved. Fear had changed the normally self-confident man almost completely. Sanzo took the hand extended to him with care, turning it over in his calloused fingers to survey the damage. He reached into his sleeve with one hand, pulling his glasses out and resting them atop his nose. For some reason, Ken's gaze softened at this. Sanzo tried to ignore the weird feeling being so….gentle gave him, and squinted hard at the injury.

The knuckles were rough and bloody, the skin bruised and damaged. The brunet had done quite a job on himself, and Sanzo didn't believe that it was done without thought. Tsking, he pulled the man over to the sink and wet a paper, towel, gently dabbing at the blood. Ken winced, his fingers fluttering in Sanzo's grasp, although he didn't pull away. When Sanzo put the towel down again, gentler still this time, Ken didn't flinch, but he sucked air in through his teeth. Sanzo refrained from commenting, imagining the brunet had learned his lesson.

As he continued cleaning in silence, Ken's somewhat sheepish, somewhat petulant expression focused on his activity, and the priest began to see a small portion of Ken's true age seeping through the myriad of expressions the brunet wore. The sight of it filled him with an odd, overwhelming feeling that made him long for Goku suddenly. It became difficult to breathe for a moment, and he paused until the haze cleared away from his vision and the ache became a dull throb.

Merciful Goddess, what the _fuck_ was that about!? There was a faint laughter in response, and Sanzo felt any tender mood he'd had souring just as suddenly as it had come. As soon as he focused back on his task, however, the feeling returned in spades. The gentle trembling of Ken's fingers in his own made him want to reassure the brunet that nothing would happen, but Sanzo wasn't stupid, and that wasn't a promise anyone could make. And it wasn't a promise anyone had the right to make either.

It had to be the close proximity. Or the fact that he had his own body in another dimension. Something was making him squirrelly, and he didn't like it. He never felt the need to comfort or reassure. His comrades, at times, needed encouragement. Or really, they needed to be reminded of their stupidity, so they could correct it. Between Gojyo and his self-destructedness, Hakkai and his self-hatred, and Goku's constant need to cling out of desperation, Sanzo simply felt an occasional need to remind them all to knock it off. Life wasn't perfect, and that was worth accepting.

But with Weiss…well, with Ken, especially after all they'd been through and done to each other…well…what he'd done to the man, Sanzo was unsure as to how to approach the quiet, uncertain brunet now. He finished cleaning the blood away, and examined the wound. Really, it wasn't looking much better, and Sanzo winced.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he asked softly. Ken shrugged, pulling his hand away and tugging it into his sleeve. Sanzo winced internally at the sight of fabric undoubtedly chaffing against raw flesh.

"It's ok. Really. Don't worry about it." the brunet tried. Sanzo scowled at him.

"Don't be stupid. It's going to get infected." He grumbled. Ken glared at him, and the priest felt relief crop up at the familiar sight. A strong, aggravated Ken he knew how to deal with.

"I'm not being stupid! It's fine! It's not like it's the first time my knuckles have been bloodied! I use bladed gloves as a weapon for chirssakes! Look at my other hand!" Sure enough, the skin on Ken's good hand was a patchwork of scars over the knuckles. Apparently leather wasn't the best form of armor when you had to be as close as Ken for combat. Sanzo was silent for a moment.

"Ran will be upset with you." he murmured quietly after the pause. Ken stopped, mid-rant, looking lost. He sighed, running his good hand through his hair and turning to slog through the mess on his floor towards the bed. He sat on it heavily, resting his forearms on his knees, his hair hiding his face. He laughed, a short, humorless sound that was hardly audible.

"He may have a hell of a lot more to be upset about to trouble himself over some bloody knuckles when he gets back." he replied after a moment. Sanzo remained standing in the kitchen, unsure of what to do, Ken still sitting in the half-shadow of the darkened main room.

"Don't assume. " he replied, crossing over to stand in front of the brunet. He crouched on the balls of his feet and stooped over so he could look at Ken's face. "Tell me everything. Everything you know about Weiss, and about Kritiker. Tell me about the rules. Tell me about how this works." he murmured quietly. Ken looked up, and gave him a trembling smile.

"Okay." he said unsteadily, swiping suspiciously at his eyes with his sleeve.

They would make this work. Sanzo would not take failure as an option. He could not allow himself anything less. Too much was riding on this now for him to let it slide through his fingers. And even though he hated to admit it, hated it so much, someone else was relying on him to keep something precious safe. His counterpart would be devastated without Ken. Sanzo had come to learn that early on. And that kind of dependence on another was frightening. The worst kind of danger. Sanzo would have to be sure nothing came of this new threat. For the sake of them all. He had no choice.

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Whew! Yay! Another update! I'm sorry it took on a serious tone. It seems I can't write a story without some good 'ol fashioned angst in it! I'll keep plugging along as fast as I can!


	16. Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

**Trading Spaces: **

**Chapter 16 : Vacation, All I Ever Wanted. **

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The next morning at breakfast, Omi walked in to one of the drabbest scenes in existence smiling as if he were on something. This, in Yohji's mind, was entirely possible, and explained a great deal about the youth.

Yohji himself sat at one end of the table, cigarette slowly smoldering between tobacco-stained, wire-scarred fingers. He yawned hugely, stretching for a moment before slumping back into himself like a marionette with its strings cut. On the table in front of him, steam wafted gracefully from a forest-green coffee mug. Yohji hadn't touched his coffee yet, but Omi had a feeling it would be gone soon.

On either side of the playboy sat Sanzo and Ken. The priest was nursing a cup of black coffee quietly; his eyes closed and face radiating contemplation, pale hands wrapped around one of Aya's plum-colored mugs. Ken sat opposite the monk, looking subdued and cradling his bandaged hand in his good one. They rested gently in his lap, the fingers of the injured hand occasionally twitching in discomfort, but the bandaging was neat and fresh, leading Omi to believe someone had done it for the soccer player. Ken looked miserable; his shoulders slumped in on themselves, nothing on the table in front of him. Omi decided to remedy that, and fixed the brunet a hot cup of tea from the hot pot, setting it before Ken in one of Aya's traditional tea mugs before he sat down himself. Ken smiled and nodded a shy thanks, reaching out to cradle the cup delicately in two hands. All attention subtly shifted to Omi and he smiled wider. Yohji flinched.

"Dammit, Omi, tone it down a few kilowatts, will you? It's too early to be that happy." the playboy grumbled. Omi monetarily turned the full smile onto Yohji spitefully before once again addressing himself to the group at large.

"We're going on a vacation." he beamed. Several sets of eyes snapped to immediate attention, wearing varying expressions of incredulity.

"Aahhh….Omittichi – Not that a vacation wouldn't be much appreciated right now, but I'm pretty sure I speak for everyone when I say now is really not the time for a holiday." Yohji drawled lazily, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow causally. Omi frowned at him.

"Yohji-kun, you obviously don't do your best thinking this early." the youth grumbled, but his demeanor was still good natured.

"To Villa-Weiss, right? And we don't have to see Manx first or anything?" Ken asked hopefully, looking like a sulky five year old about to be offered a compromise from time-out. Omi nodded in agreeance.

"I got the key from Manx-san this morning at about 5:30am after my morning jog. She was a little perturbed that we asked for a vacation so suddenly, but didn't seem to think anything of it." the youth replied proudly. Ken smiled now, chuckling a little.

"Way to go Omi!" he cheered. Omi blushed slightly. Yohji looked confused.

"I'm failing to see how a vacation is going to help us solve his holiness over there." the lanky man grunted, slouching further in his chair and gesturing with his chin at Sanzo. Omi shook his head in annoyance. And Ken just stared at him.

"You really _aren't_ at your best this early, are you Yohji?" he remarked, closer to his normal self. Yohji favored them both with a scowl, and reached for his coffee, sipping it sulkily, although he made no come back.

"At the very least, this will give us more time to think about our problem without worrying about getting caught with our pants down, so to speak." Sanzo remarked flatly, looking at Yohji out of his peripheral vision. Omi nodded. Yohji shrugged.

"Ok, fine with me. When do we leave?" he replied. Omi's expression turned serious.

"Early this afternoon. The less time we take the better, so everyone get packed. Momoe-san is going to watch the shop." the youth replied. Everyone present nodded and rose almost at the same time. They departed as quickly and headed up the stairs and into their respective rooms. Sanzo paused for a moment, in hesitation. He was surprised to see Ken come out of his own room and head into Aya's. Curious, he followed, making his way inside as Ken was hastily pulling a neatly folded duffel bag out of Aya's closet mainly with his good hand. He threw it to the ground and opened it up, turning and yanking Aya's bureau drawers open hastily and pulling out shirts, pants and other necessary clothing. Aya's clothes were already neatly folded, so they fit very well into the duffel bag. Ken then went up to the top closet shelf and pulled down a small overnight kit, likely containing hygiene products for just such an emergency. Although the brunet's movements were frantic, he seemed to know what he was doing, and packed with a practiced air. Sanzo found himself wondering how many times Weiss had had to do something like this.

Ken zipped the duffel shut finally, and bent to lift it by the handles with two hands. He flinched, and dropped the bag with a curse, opening his wounded hand and then making a loose fist with it a few times. He shook it out, and bent to try again.

"Tch. Idiot." Sanzo moved casually across the room and brushed Ken's hands aside, stooping to pick the bag up. Ken glared at him but remained silent, following Sanzo out and down the hall into his own room. Sanzo winced internally, not willing to believe that Ken's job of packing would be nearly so easy. Just seeing the brunet's wounded hand anywhere near that mess made him want to drag the man off and get him some tetanus shots. But Ken moved with a focused walk, wading towards his closet. He gripped a seemingly random handle out of the mess on the closet floor and yanked once with his good hand. An entire duffle bag came out, looking fully packed. There was a huge duffle-shaped crater in it's wake. The priest blinked.

"All set." Ken said firmly, slinging the bag over his shoulder. Sanzo frowned.

"Do you have a first aid kit in there?" he asked pointedly. Ken scowled and crossed his arms stubbornly.

"There's one under the seat of my bike. And in Yohji's trunk. And under the seat of Omi's bike. We have them everywhere." he growled. Sanzo only 'tsked'.

"Then they better have enough supply to keep your hand clean and bandaged." the monk snapped. Ken snorted but didn't reply, muttering instead under his breath something that sounded like 'nuff bandages to wrap around the whole frickin' world _twice_…', but Sanzo ignored it. Along with that familiar achy feeling that had taken up residence in his chest since that first moment he'd gone to look after Ken. He couldn't help but wonder about what was going on on his side of the world as he followed Ken out of the room.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Yohji and Omi were already packed and waiting. The youth smiled thinly and waved them all out to the parking garage next door. They waited for an eternity while the attendant went off in search of Yohji's jeep. When he returned, Sanzo raised an eyebrow as they all climbed in.

"How many cars do you _have_?" the monk asked, sounding exasperated. Yohji smiled rakishly.

"As many as I want." he purred, steering them out of the garage. Omi rolled his eyes and Ken simply sat staring out the window, still cradling his wounded hand. Sanzo frowned at him, wondering what had him so quiet. Goku tended to be that way as well, brooding at times you would least expect, over things that most people didn't brood over for the simple reason that doing so rarely changed anything. Seeing the younger brunet so disheartened seemed wrong. It was unnatural for Ken to be so quiet.

"How long will it take to get to this…"Villa Weiss?" the monk asked after a moment. He was surprised when Ken answered with a smile.

"890 bottles of beer on the wall." the brunet replied. Sanzo frowned.

"What the hell kind of answer is that?!" he growled.

"A good one." Yohji replied. Omi rolled his eyes heavenward again in an expression Sanzo recognized very well; especially since he spent a great deal of time wearing it himself.

"About four hours." the youth replied. "There'll be a lot of traffic since we'll run into the rush-hour commute later on. Normally it takes about three to three and a half. " Sanzo nodded.

"Did we bring food?" Ken asked suddenly, warming up to the trip. Yohji's face melted into the momentary expression of someone who realizes too late that they have forgotten something important. "Aww, _man_!" the brunet moaned when he caught sight of it.

"We have time to stop Ken-kun." Omi assured him cheerily.

"Okay, but let's do it soon, cause I'm kinda hungry. I missed breakfast." the soccer-player mumbled, rubbing his stomach. Sanzo felt a momentary warmth and reassurance at the sight.

"How about we stop at a Lawson's? You know, that really big one on the way?" Yohji cut in. Ken leaned forward excitedly, grabbing the back of Yohji's seat with his good hand, nearly knocking Sanzo's nose in the process as he reached across the back seat. The priest's answering scowl went unnoticed.

"Oh yeah! The one with the fifty kinds of onigiri?? I _love_ that store!" Omi let out a long-self-suffering sigh that Sanzo fully concurred with.

"Why do I have the feeling this is going to be a long car trip?" the youth muttered. Ken simply sat back with a satisfied expression on his face, returning to staring out the window. This time at least, the smallest of smiles curved along his lips. Satisfied, Sanzo crossed his arms and prepared for a nap. He was, after all, nothing if not experienced at sleeping in a moving vehicle. And Yohji's jeep, with its closed roof and heated leather seats, was much improved over his usual circumstances.

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By the time they had hit the next town, Aya had worked himself into a good, frothy worry. The kind that involve pacing, heartburn, and insomnia. His mind continued to weave itself around the concept of Kritiker making any untoward discoveries. Around what could happen to his team. Around what could happen to Ken. His stomach gave a little flip at the thought and Aya endeavored to ignore it. He was largely unsuccessful as images of a tortured, bruised Ken crying out for him crowded into his brain. Aya groaned and paused in front of a wall, letting his forehead fall against the cracked concrete surface with a dull thud. A bored Goku looked over at him, surveying the position with a frown.

"If ya don't stop that you're gonna have a headache. And be all grouchy." the youth grumbled. Aya turned, shooting him a look, but refrained from commenting. He threw himself onto his bed instead and stared idly up at the ceiling. Goku snorted and got up, leaving the room. Aya let a huge sigh blow forth from his lips, feeling slightly guilty he'd managed to annoy _Goku_, of all people from the room. The youth returned after a moment, however, bringing Hakkai and Gokyjo with him. The healer bore a Mahjongg board with him and smiled cordially.

"Well then, let's see if we can't make a proper distraction of this, shall we? I've had some sake and beer brought up as well, and they should be here any minute."

As if reading his mind, a hostess knocked cheerfully, bringing their drinks, and Hakkai silently set up the game. Aya, grumbling, rose and sat with them at the table. No sense in not taking the opportunity to get his brain to shut up.

"Pass me some sake, will you Hakkai?"

"Certainly."

Aya couldn't help but smile as they settled in. As the game began to unfold, he wondered what Weiss would be like, if thing had been different, but decided that the circumstances, tragic though they were, had been just right for all of them to meet and bond. And now both groups had been brought together. There had to be a reason for this. There had to be a reason time and space would upset itself and jump boundaries.

Whatever the reason, it had to be serious.

"Dude, if you don't stop thinking I'm gonna knock you out. I can't concentrate. Tell the gerbil up there to kick it in for the night."

"Ahaha, Gojyo, that wasn't very nice."

"Well dude, c'mon, can YOU concentrate??"

"Ahh… well…."

"…You know what? Do me a favor and don't answer that."

"…As you wish Gojyo. Perhaps you should think before asking such silly questions."

"Yeah! Maybe you just can't concentrate cause you're a pervert! All those perverted thoughts are messing you up!"

"At least I think about that kind of shit. You wouldn't know what to do with a girl if she _threw_ herself at you _naked_!"

"I would too!"

"Yeah right, baby monkey!"

"Screw you stinky cockroach! At least I'd _have_ a girl throwing herself at me! You have to con all your dates into your bed!"

"Why you shitty little….are you _laughing_ Hakkai!?"

"Oh, of course not Gojyo."

"You _are_!"

"That's cause it's _true_ you stupid kappa!"

"Hah!! I'm more of a man than you'll _ever_ be, you shitty little monkey cub!"

…Aya felt his eyebrow beginning to twitch. How the hell did Sanzo deal with this crap? He'd have gone crazy and committed genocide by now, surely. All the more reason to get himself back. And soon. He had a feeling his mental health was beginning to fade.

Villa Weiss, as it turned out, was a romantic cabin located in the charming rural atmosphere of a distant mountain area. Sanzo, however, had seen so many charming, rural mountain areas in his lifetime at this point that the romanticism was pretty much lost on him. Although the bright lights and constant noise of Tokyo hadn't been much better, so he supposed this could be considered some kind of improvement.

They trudged up the snow-covered porch, a little disappointing for early spring, and clomped inside. The cabin was dark and slightly dank, and the air inside was the same temperature as the outside, and damnit all if Sanzo wasn't absolutely _freezing_ and ready to go sit in the car again.

"Colder than a well-digger's canary in here!" Ken called out cheerfully, making a bee-line for the fire place. He worked deftly, and Sanzo was surprised when several moments later the sounds of a small fire could be heard crackling merrily. Ken blew on it gently, resting his injured hand on his knee as he squatted, his minstrations on the small blaze gentle and coaxing.

Within moments, the small blaze was a cheery fire. Sanzo blinked, and then wasted no time in shuffling himself off to stand in front of it. Ken got up as he approached and headed off towards the back of the house.

"Where're you going?" Sanzo called gruffly, hating himself the moment the question left his mouth and wondering why in the hell he'd asked in the first place. Ken turned, giving him an odd look.

"To get the fires going in our rooms. Yotan, are you going shopping, or is Omi?"

"Ah, I'm going shopping. The last time we let Omi go he got all soy and tofu and nothing that could even be considered food remotely. I want chips goddamnit, and microwave pizza." Ken grinned.

"Score!" he yelled, pumping his fist. "Get some veggies though too, ok man? And rice n stuff. I'm gonna cook at least _some_ meals." Omi rolled his eyes at the two of them.

"Yohji-kun, if you come back with only junk food I'm going to lock you in your room and throw it away." The youth threatened. Yohji pretended to look affronted.

"_Me_? Why Omi, what kind of man do you take me for?" the lanky playboy cried.

"The hedonistic kind. Now hurry up and go! I'm hungry!" the youth whined, waving him out the door.

"Too true!" Yohji sang out as he sailed back into the car and drove off. Omi shook his head in annoyance.

"Never a dull moment." He muttered. Ken chuckled in agreeance, making his way up towards the bedrooms. Sanzo grunted and turned back to the fireplace. So frigging cold up here! All those days in the desert must be weakening his stamina….the thought was followed by a sneeze, much to his dismay.

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It's amazing how quickly everything can go straight to hell. One minute you're playing Mahjongg, and the next you're suddenly surrounded by blood-thirsty demons looking for your life and a scroll you're supposed to be carrying. Oh well. At least it was mildly amusing to watch them all fall into massive confusion. Cries of 'I thought Sanzo was _blond_!?' and 'It's the wrong party!' seemed to ring around the room. They were all having a good laugh at the idiocy until the crowd suddenly parted like the red sea for four silhouettes.

"Kougaiji!" Goku called out, the sound bordering on angry and excited. Aya was wary, however, and he noticed Hakkai and Gojyo looking quite tense as well.

"Speak of the Devil and he shall App-" Schuldig stopped his obvious introductory rant mid sentence as he caught sight of Aya.

"Why _Weiss_! What a pleasant surprise. Are there more of you, or do we only have the company of the Abyssinian kitten today? " he purred. Oh shit. That's right. Aya looked like himself. The red head waged a silent, 'don't panic' war in his head as the rest of the group's members seemed to peak with recognition.

"Well, I hadn't foreseen Weiss being here, but it's unsurprising." Oracle spoke from the body of a buxom young demon woman sporting some kind of pig-tail hair-do. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Aya might have laughed. Apparently Schuldig got the better end of the deal on the body swap. A disgruntled looking young girl with red hair and a crazy-eyed man with no shirt seemed to prove Aya's point. Casually, the red head shrugged a shoulder, wishing he had his katana on him. He would have to make do with the spare layman's sword, one of the generic weapons the Sanzo-ikkou had taken to carrying with them.

"We're probably here to stop you idiots from whatever havoc it is you're trying to wreak."

"Undoubtedly. And like always, you will undoubtedly be unsuccessful." Crawford answered with that ridiculous arrogant smirk. Even from a woman's body he still managed the asshole persona very well.

"We'll see about that." Aya snarled back at him.

"We going to stand here and chat all day or what?" Shuldig called out, annoyed. Aya leapt into action, fully willing to get things started. Crawford met him, iron to steel, and the battle was joined.

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Yohji was minding his own business in the junk food section when everything decided to go directly to hell on him, which, in Yohji's life, was usually how things worked. Really, though. He'd been standing there, trying to decide if he wanted the senbe _with_ seaweed, or the senbe without. Tough choice. A pair of tall, burly men dressed in nondescript black clothing flanked him suddenly on either side, preventing Yohji from getting much further in his perusal outside of the extra saltiness the seaweed tended to add, and was he in the mood for that much salt?

Sadly, in the end, it didn't much matter _what_ he was in the mood for, as both men practically carried him out of the store. Yohji waited patiently until they were outside so he could make a move and not hurt any civilians, but alas, that choice too, was taken away as a sharp hit to the back of his head had him seeing black. He caught sight of a big black limousine and a face hidden by sunglasses as his world faded out.

Oh, shit. This was gonna be one of those days….

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Gasp! Oh cliffhanger! I'm sorry! I'll try not to make you wait very long at all for the next chapter! I'm nice and settled in my new job now I think, and so should start having some more free time and creative unblocking! Yay!

And now, my challenge!

The challenge is to write a one-shot, anything goes fic that starts with one of the following phrases:

1: "Whoa! Dude…that's just _wrong_!"

2: "This was totally legal when we started it!"

3: "All-right, anty-up! Everyone get their shorts on the table!"

4: "You know what? I don't even want to know."

5: "You have five seconds to get that away from me or I'll remove it forcibly."

6: "Wow. I didn't think you could _get_ your legs to bend that far."

7: "…I can't believe you just did that…."

8: "What the hell is that, and why is it coming this way?"

9: "When was the last time you _washed_ this??"

10: "You know what this means…"

" Hot sex??..."

" ….Not as such, no."

" Damn."

The one-shot phrases have been created in honor of the comedy that has suddenly run away from this fic. You may use any of the characters in any of my fics, or even any of my fic backgrounds. You may use more than one, or even all phrases if you like. The most original fic found at the end of one month (May 16th) wins the (not very glamourous or even exciting) prize – I'll write a one-shot of any plot or characters, any pairings, or even lemons – any choice specified by the author of the most original fic.

I'm hoping everyone will have fun with this, and uhh….maybe it will distract everyone from the cliff hanger. Any questions just drop me a review or a comment or whatever! Tata for now!

Elfgoddess00


	17. Who the Hell Are You?

**Trading Spaces, Chapter 17: Who the Hell are You!? (Again.)**

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Aya was bloody. While some of it had never been inside his own veins, the majority of it belonged to him, of that he was certain. In front of him, Crawford's breasts (Yes, that had been rather difficult to get around….he was still in shock, with an occasional nose bleed.) heaved dramatically with every breath he…she…well _whoever_ took. Aya tried to ignore the dainty beading of sweat at the man's …wom—oh for Buddha's sake! Across from him, Crawford's face remained grim in battle. Schuldig's occasional knowing chuckle did nothing to soothe Aya's ruffled countenance. It was obvious he could guess what Abyssynian's issue was, and took pleasure at it. At least he couldn't read Aya's mind.

Hakkai, Gojyo, and Goku were mixed in the melee somewhere. Aya took a small measure of satisfaction in knowing that Hakkai was able to give Schuldig a run for his money, and Gojyo and Goku were not in poor standing either. The advantage of being in one's own, familiar body was certainly key. An advantage which even _he_ had over Crawford. Which was likely why he was able to trip his opponent in the next instant and lever a blade at his throat. From the ground, Crawford glared bloody murder, the expression coming out more like a sulky little pout, and Aya could feel his own face twitching into an arrogant smirk. He wouldn't lower himself to teasing, however.

Schuldig, apparently, didn't see any reason not to. "Awww…Bradley, you look so cute when you're angry!" he cooed. Aya didn't have time to blink before Crawford was up and uppercutting his own man, snarling like a lion. _Both_ red heads tried very hard to contain their mirth. Hakkai, smiling as politely as always, took the distracted opportunity to blast both Crawford and Schulding with enough force to send them through the opposite wall.

Aya really could feel himself smiling now. If he didn't knock it off, he was gonna give someone a heart attack. Nagi saved him the trouble, taking time out of his busy schedule to sail by, pummeling Aya in the chest with more force than enthusiasm. Aya felt himself falling backwards, hitting the floor with a thud. He watched Goku sail over his prone form in a perfect arch, his staff making an impressive crater in the wooden floor where Nagi had once stood. The small red-headed girl (another difficult distraction) sneered dispassionately at the crater from her safe position on a nearby window ledge.

And Farferello…well, Farferello was in shock. Gojyo had long since moved on to taking out lesser demons in mass quantity. Farferello had taken one serious hit before collapsing to the ground in utter shock, staring at the wound as if it were leaking water instead of blood. As if he couldn't possibly fathom why it was there. Apparently, despite any mindsets he may have been under, his body was a part of the numbing link. Without it, the Berserker was suddenly getting a heavy back-dose of sensations he'd been missing for years. Aya felt it served him right.

Assesing his little group, Crawford narrowed his eyes, and leaned over to murmur in Schudig's ear. The red head's expression went from teasing to annoyed quickly, and with a scowl, he sat up, pulling Crawford out of the plaster rubble with him.

"Alright! That's enough for today. Everyone, we're withdrawing." he called sharply. Everyone turned to stare at him as if he had announced that he'd like someone to perform a sex change operation on him right this very moment. Beside the redhead, Crawford cleared his throat delicately.

" I believe lord Kogaiji gave an order." he hinted coldly. Aya felt something try to burst from his chest at the dainty, feminine voice, but he clamped down on it ruthlessly. The last thing he wanted was to tick Crawford off. And laughing him out the door would definitely accomplish just that. Grudgingly, the remaining demon troops trudged out the door, grumbling amongst themselves. Alone in the stillness, Goku nudged a bloody corpse with his toe, scrunching his face in distaste.

"That was weird." he decided out loud. The others nodded in agreement. Gojyo, the first to recover, shrugged casually, stretching.

"Ah who cares. It was worth it to see the Kogaiji group run away with their tails between their legs…even if it wasn't really them." He finished, catching Hakkai's warning look. Goku snorted.

"Man, who's gonna clean all this up?" he whined, looking at the gore around them. Aya nearly groaned out loud. Kritiker always cleaned up their messes. He wasn't paid enough to clean up messes of that caliber. As if on cue, the remainder of the door burst open to reveal a handful of relieved looking townspeople.

"Oh, the Sanzo-ik---" they all patiently hid their amusement while the man struggled to decide what he wanted to say.

"Ahh…thank you all for saving our town from demon attack!" he finally beamed cheerfully. Aya stared. Didn't these people know that their presence had likely brought on the attack?

"As token of our gratitude, please join us in a feast, and accept new, clean rooms. Please don't trouble yourselves any further!" the man continued. Aya stared as the remainder of his little group nodded graciously, Goku unable to hold back a cheer. He felt his eyebrow twitch. Were these people for real? Aya sighed, following the crowd out the door. When in Rome…or at least Shangri La….

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Elsewhere, in a parallel universe, Yohji Kudo was also bloody. Unlike his teammate, he was quite assured that all of the crimson liquid spattered on his person and around the room belonged to him. The knowledge no longer upset him. He sat, with his head tipped back, pupils shrunk to vague pindots as he stared at the institutional florescent lamp hanging from the ceiling. Somewhere in the background, there was the sound of liquid spattering sluggishly on tile every few minutes. To most, it could be interpreted as the annoying sound of a leaky pipe. To Yohji, every spatter brought him closer to the eventual goal of bleeding to death. He was pretty sure there was a puddle underneath him somewhere. The battered soles of his feet were resting in _some_ kind of liquid.

A clock ticked dispassionately somewhere just out of sight. The lanky man didn't have to look at it to know how long he'd been bound to this uncomfortable metal chair. His subconscious calculated every tick, kindly bringing his conscious up to speed every full minute that passed.

It had been approximately 5 hours, 38 minutes, and 13 seconds since this glorious calm had settled over him. He'd been lucky to live as long as he had, really. And at least when he turned up missing the others would smell trouble and hide themselves. Maybe they could figure out how to all get to Shangri La, so they could be safe. Yohj hoped they were safe. He wanted that with all his heart. If he found out that they were receiving the same warm reception Kritiker had given him, he didn't know what would happen. He didn't even want to think about it. He had remained calm only through believing himself the sacrificial martyr; a warning flare to others. The battered brunet forced his thoughts back into nothing.

The door opened exactly 12 minutes after. Yohji forced himself to remain in his lax, uninterested position. Damn those bastards if they thought he'd give them the satisfaction of jerking to attention every time something else happened. His answer was always the same….if they had to ask him the asinine questions they were asking, then they weren't supposed to know. The most irritating part of all this was that they hadn't even broached on the body swap at all. They just kept asking him random, obvious questions. No matter, his answer never changed.

He was quite surprised to hear the authoritative, familiar click of stiletto heels on the linoleum. Still, he refused to move. His mouth went dry. Somehow, despite knowing that it must have been Persia, or Manx, or both, to have ordered his capture…to have betrayed Weiss, to be confronted by it was rather…upsetting. In the end, as with his trip to this clean, white hell, it was not his choice. He nearly cursed when a silhouette blocked his self-imposed blinding.

"Balinese…?" Manx's tone was uncertain…and…it sounded almost afraid. Yohji blinked, hissing as his eyes burned. He fixed them on her face, the view hazed by the amount of time he'd spend trying to burn-out his retinas. He did not give her the satisfaction of speech. His defiance nearly fell when he managed to make out the relieved sorrow on her face.

"Oh, Gods." she moaned, the sudden burst of emotion so foreign and disconcerting that Yohji felt something inside of him shift. He felt the bonds holding him down being released, felt the burn of leather pulling away from raw flesh.

"Oh Yohji. We didn't…" Manx's voice choked and she fell silent. Slowly, cautiously, he allowed his head to roll forward. He winced, his neck muscles screaming in protest. When he managed to get himself under control, he focused his steady, burning gaze on her face, and she blanched. He was immensely relieved when he realized she was trying to press a water glass to his lips. He drank greedily, his eyes closing momentarily. When they opened, the world was a little clearer. And Manx looked devastated. She shook her head, and motioned for silence, turning to stare at the door while gesturing with her free hand. Oh. The other hand had somehow wound up supporting his head. When had that happened? After a moment, the door opened, and a young man Yohji had never seen before appeared, looking alert.

"Javanese. Help me. Hurry." she murmured to him in hushed tones. The young man nodded shortly and hurried across the room. Between the two of them, they hoisted Yohji up into a standing position. They allowed him a moment to still the spinning, the pain, before he nodded, doing his best to make his legs work; make himself walk.

Everything else was a blur. He was aware at one moment of cold air coming in contact with his skin. Someone covered him with a blanket. There was a great deal of rumbling and rolling and rocking. Yohji embraced it; allowed it to lull him into deep unconsciousness. After all; he'd earned it.

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Almost on the heels of Sanzo's return to them, in the jeep, Yohji's appearance was marked by a loud, frightened yell from Goku.

"Stop! Stop the Jeep!" the youth bellowed. "Yohji!!" Hakkai turned around, a slight frown marring his features until he saw what Goku was upset about. The healer swore he could feel the blood draining from his body. Yohji was…oh _gods_, _Yohji_. The normally relaxed and limber playboy was wrapped in a bloody blanket, curled in the fetal position on the seat. What parts of his body that were visible did not hold any more promise than the gore-covered blanket. Hakkai was out of Jeep before they even came to a complete stop, racing around to Yohji's seat. With Goku's help, he managed to hoist the man out of the car. Yohji moaned as his weight shifted into the healer's arms, but he didn't stir. To Hakkai and Goku's surprise, Sanzo wasn't long in gaining his bearings and racing around to asses the situation. The monk gently peeled the blanket away from Yohji's face as Hakkai laid him on the grass under the sparse shade a scraggly tree provided.

Yohji's face, although a mess, seemed even more stunning to Hakkai beneath the ugly bruising. The dark splotches continued down his neck, forming into finger shapes before disappearing beneath the grungy wife beater the man wore. Beyond that, there was blood. So much of it the healer feared that Yohji might be beyond hope. He felt himself seize up, tremble, but then there was Sanzo's hand, wiping the grime away, revealing the wounds in reality. Sanzo's voice cursing, angry, and even upset. Goku's frightened chatter, his golden eyes impossibly wide. Hakkai took a deep, calming breath. Yohji was going to live. He was going to be fine. The brunet would make sure of it. Turning to meet Sanzo's gaze, he was surprised to find a measure of fear in the violet depths.

"Sanzo, get our first aid supplies. Goku, start a fire and boil some water. The faster we move, the better Yohji will feel." both men nodded and moved to action.

Hakkai refused to think about where Gojyo might have landed himself. They all refused…

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Gojyo found himself wrapped in sweet smelling arms, with his face pressed against an ample busom. He smiled, but the moment was interrupted by an indelicate feminine shriek. Gojyo felt himself shoved off, his head cracking into the car window behind him. He shot her a glare, rubbing the back of his poor, abused skull and shooting her a glare.

"Easy with the goods lady." he grumped. The woman only looked more terrified. When the driver began to stop the car she whirled to face the front seat.

"Don't stop, _drive_ you idiot!" she snapped, whipping out a handgun and pointing it in Gojyo's direction. "The sooner we get to the Villa the better." she barked. Gojyo raised his hands in surrender, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

"I can explain!" he said, smiling nervously. The red-headed woman narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, you had better. And you had better bring Kudou back here." she growled. Gojyo swallowed around the suddenly big lump in his throat. What the hell had he gotten himself into??

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Wheee! Another update! Bet you weren't expecting that! I stayed up late to do it too! I'm sacrificing sleep here! Incidentally, so far no takers on the challenge…guess that kinda fell flat on it's face, huh?


	18. But I Can Explain! No, Really

**Chapter 17: But I Can Explain!**

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The return to consciousness was nearly unbearable for Yohji. He moaned, the sound scraping against his already raw throat, and causing him to cough. The lanky brunet tasted blood, and rolled over painfully slowly to spit it out. Even the start of the movement caused every nerve to flare to life, reminding him of just how _badly_ those assholes had used him as a punching bag. Every inch of him felt raw and highly-sensitized. Groping slowly, he tried to find a place steady enough to rest his weight upon, to lever himself up, because he was still in so much pain, and he had to find Manx, had to see her, because if she was _rescuing_ him, then something was horribly wrong, and there could be a great and terrible danger on the horizon. He opened his mouth then, to call for someone, _anyone_, anyone at all in Weiss, because someone had to hear him, had to _know._ All that emerged, however, was a strangled cry of pain as lightening shot from three of his fingers into his spine the moment he put pressure on his hand.

Just as suddenly, hands were pressing him back, and a soft voice was reassuring him, begging him to lie still, lie still, and everything was going to be just fine, but it _wasn't_, Yohji knew it with all that lived in him, and he tried to struggle, but the pain was too much, too much, and finally, he lay still. The hands caressed his hair softly, fingertips ghosting over his skin, leaving a strange sensation in their wake. It gathered in points, 'hot spots' where the pain had been greatest, chasing the fire away. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, the tension falling from him as the hands brushed over his legs and then swept past his feet. Something had been familiar about the touch; comforting. He lay in a warm, numb haze, his mind still awake enough to tune his ears onto his surroundings. Someone was speaking. More than one person if he didn't miss his guess….

"Sanzo, you can't now. He's in no condition to be doing anything!" it was Hakkai, the playboy registered dimly. Hakkai, and that was good…because…because he was….well _Hakkai_.

"Dammit Hakkai! We can't wait forever. We don't have time for him to recover because the Merciful Goddess only knows what's happening to Gojyo right now!" Sanzo's bark was no less harsh for it's hushed tone. Why were they worried about Gojyo? Manx might freak, but Yohji had it on pretty good authority that she wouldn't kill his counterpart. At least he thought he had it on good authority anyways…

"Sanzo, he won't be able to tell us anything when he's in this much pain!" Hakkai's voice was also hushed, but the overwhelming concern in his tone warmed Yohji to his toes. He was ok…he should do something about this. Slowly, he forced his eyes opened.

"Ha-kkai…s'ok…gotta warn…" he tried. His voice came out sounding horrible, when it was audible at all. A blur nearby moved quickly, sharpening as it came closer. Yohji realized that Hakkai's eyes were striking at so close a proximity. The emerald depths were dark with concern.

"Yohji? You shouldn't push yourself now…" he murmured softly. Sanzo snorted somewhere in the background.

"Are you okay Yohji-niichan? What happened?" Goku's wide golden eyes seemed to push Hakkai's aside, coming in even closer. Yohji frowned.

"Kri-Kritker is…'gotta warn…Manx…s'r'eally important…" he tried again. Hakkai's face came into view once more.

"Tell her what Yohji?" he tried.

"Hn. The both of you get out of his face so he can breathe a little." a derisive voice called from beyond. The faces moved then, and a pair of rough, calloused hands that smelt slightly of tobacco and sandalwood helped him to sit up. It was painful, but he needed it, and he smiled gratefully at Sanzo.

"It's a coup I think." he manage to start. "I…at first I thought it was Manx…and Persia…but…" he trailed off here, a cough wracking his frame. "Manx pulled me out of there…she…came for me…and they kept asking such stupid questions…they should have _known_ the answers. That's…what worries me…They didn't even _ask_ about the body swap…about…Sanzo…" he winced here, his bodie's nerves slowly flaring anew.

" Easy Yohj. Don't push." Hakkai soothed from somewhere just out of sight. Yohji simply shook his head slowly. He had to get this out. He _had_ to.

" Gojyo is ok. I…Manx was driving me to the Villa before I passed-out. She might be upset, but I don't think she'll kill him." The playboy could feel the edges of his vision swimming, but he had at least forced that part out clearly. "Someone needs to know…needs to think about….it wasn't…wasn't Manx, or Persia. It was…someone else….someone in Kritiker….something is wrong….." Here Yohji paused, his breath coming in short, strained gasps. Everything hurt. It hurt so badly. All sound seemed to fade out against the roaring in his ears, and he strained to hear the conversations going on around him.

"Hn….that's enough. Hakkai…I don't think he's going to make much sense."

"I told you he wasn't ready Sanzo."

"Just get him settled. We're in for a wait, and you know how I hate waiting. Damn this is excessively annoying."

"Sanzo, I'm hungry!"

"Sanzo, why don't you take Goku to get some food? We'll give Yohji some peace that way."  
"Hnn. How about peace for me?"

"Ahaha. I'm afraid that's a long time in coming, Sanzo."

"Figures."

The noises faded after this, and gradually he became aware of a soft, soothing sound somewhere in the background. His consciousness grabbed for it, letting it pull him into a warm darkness. Someone, Hakkai, was gently laying him back, with hands that smelt of clean soap and rough linen. And before long he was lost, the whole world fading into black.

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Ken had fallen down the stairs. Aya was frantically trying to get him sitting upright and ascertain if he had wounded himself, but Ken was being particularly difficult about acquiescing.

From Ken's point of view, it was absolutely ridiculous to think that he should be expected to sit still or acquiesce to anything when Ran was looking like he'd just walked through a wall of moving blades, which was why he'd fallen down the stairs in the first place. He'd walked out of the bedroom, only to see Ran standing at the bottom of the stairs covered in blood. No matter whose blood it was. Naturally, the shock had caused the brunet to misplace his feet, and the next thing he knew he was flat on his back at the bottom of the stairs, Ran and Omi looking at him with startled, frightened expressions on their faces. Ken, on the other hand, had begun to try and frantically tear at Ran's clothing, which Ran obstinately refused to have torn until he was certain Ken was alright and with all his bones unbroken.

Omi didn't personally care_ which_ idiot he started with, as long as they started on _somebody_. Quite frankly it amazed the normally cheerful youth that anybody got anything done in Weiss without dying or at least getting seriously maimed. For the gods' sake, Ken couldn't even walk down a set of stairs without having an issue!

They were all saved from the current tangle by the sound of the door banging open. Omi turned absently, not fully looking at who'd entered, his mind being on other things.

"Yohji-kun! It's about time you got in! Help us get Ken-kun up! He fell down the stairs."

"What in the name of the Gods is going on here!?" Everything in the room froze. Shit. That would be Manx. Sounding angry. At least Sanzo wasn't around anymore.

"Wow. Ditto on what she said. What the hell are the three of you doing on the floor like that?" _That_ pulled the three of them up short. Three heads turned simultaneously, three sets of eyes focusing on the latest entry into the Villa Weiss.

Manx stood in the doorway, anger radiating around her like an aura, and surprisingly, fear. Her eyes roamed over Aya's battered form and she seemed to hesitate, her gaze betraying a '_you too?'_ sentiment before icing over. Upon staring, it was clear that she had a gun levered less than steadily onto a nervous-looking Gojyo, and a shadowy form was behind them; an agent none of them had seen before. This looked pretty damn bad.

"Abyssian, are you wounded? Were you abducted the same way Balinese was?" she remarked coldly. That comment brought even Ken to attention.

"They took Yohji? Who took Yohji?" he growled, his hands clenching reflexively into fists even though he wasn't wearing his weapon. Omi and Aya nodded in agreement, the three of them coming together in defensive stances. Manx raised her eyebrows, resting one hand on a curvaceous hip.

"Kritker operatives acting independently of Persia's command." she answered shortly. Here, Aya frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean? And why are you pointing that at Gojyo?" Manx's eyebrows shot up even further.

"Are you on familiar terms with him? Imagine my shock when I was tending Balinese and he was suddenly replaced with a man I'd never seen before." She barked. All three of Weiss winced, betraying their guilty standpoint. After an almost unbearable silence, Omi spoke.

"It's a long story, Manx….but he's alright. You don't have to worry about him if you can take my word for it." It seemed to be an even longer moment of silence before Manx reluctantly put her gun away. She gestured loosely with her hand and her companion seemed to relax.

"It just so happens I'm feeling patient. Indulge me on this…_story_. Maybe over tea and whatever snacks you have around. It's been a long night. But first…Abyssinian, answer my question." Aya cleared his throat as all gazes shifted towards him.

"Injures attained in battle. Nothing major, but the story won't make sense until you've heard Omi's story." he replied curtly. Attention sifted back to Omi, who immediately led everyone to the kitchen.

"Siberian." Ken snapped to attention at Manx's cry. " Take care of Abyssian. I trust nothing is broken after that little trip?" Ken colored slightly and nodded.

"Yeah, uhh…no big deal." he mumbled. He led a reluctant Aya upstairs as Omi, Manx, an extremely reluctant Gojyo, and the agent who had come with Manx all sat the kitchen table while Omi, with a tired look on his face, began the story.

"_Damn_, I like a woman who can run a tight ship!" Somehow, Ken wasn't surprised that it was Gojyo's voice making a comment like that.

"You even try what I can see you thinking about and I'll shoot you right between the legs." Somehow, Manx's ready, unsurprised reply didn't shock Ken either. It was good to know some things never changed, no matter the players.

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Hakkai sat in the silence of the room, his book ignored. The paper ignored. The coffee ignored. The only thing that seemed to hold his attention was the still form that lay breathing shallowly in the bed beside him. Sanzo and Goku had come and gone hours ago, Goku bouncing around excitedly, and Sanzo muttering about getting a separate room for the ape so that at least _someone_ could get some rest. Hakkai had hardly stirred.

The nerves were gone. He wasn't terrified, as he had been, that Yohji wouldn't make it. Granted, he wasn't out of the water yet, but Hakkai was pretty sure if he was diligent enough, he could catch fever and infection before it spread. Which of course, meant that his attention never wavered from Yohji's prone body. Or so the healer told himself.

The truth was, the majority of the feelings roiling in his gut related to a deep, savage anger. An anger that made him feel sick, like he was sinking, because he'd hadn't felt an anger like that since Kanan. He might have when Goku had been ruthlessly cut down, but there had been so much crisis, so much drama, that he hadn't been able to get past anything except putting one foot in front of the other.

Now, however, looking at the wounds, Hakkai knew that most of them had been inflicted as torture, and patchy though Yohji's story had been, the healer had been able to fill in a great deal of the blanks. He was pretty sure Sanzo had too. And he hadn't liked the picture that was coming together. A moan drifted from beneath the covers, snapping his attention back to Yohji. The blankets shifted, and immediately, Hakkai reached forward to pull them down. Beneath them, Yohji smiled dazedly.

"Guardian Angel huh? Thought they were supposed to be a hot chick." he mumbled languidly. Hakkai felt himself color even as he allowed a small chuckle.

"Not as such, no. And I'm afraid I won't even arrange for any pretty faces in here for quite sometime. I simply couldn't allow it." he replied. That dazed chuckle flashed again in response.

"I think I've got all the good-looking faces I need right here. Even if they look like they haven't slept." the playboy quipped. Hakkai did color then, and speech left him.

"Ahh. You shouldn't listen to me talk. I'm an idiot." Yohji remarked, a sadness falling over his face. Hakkai couldn't tolerate it.

"You're no more an idiot than anyone else I know. Honestly. Between you and Gojyo, I can't do anything right." he sighed, sounding exasperated. Yohji frowned.

"That's not it at all." he replied, missing the light-tone in the comment. "You're pretty fucking incredible. It's hard to keep up sometimes. I think it's jealousy." Hakkai felt his eyes widen.

"Misplaced, surely. We've been through this already – " the healer found his speech quite suddenly cut-off. By a pair of warm, soft lips. He blinked, and they were gone.

" Let's not talk about it." Yohji whispered hoarsely, still hovering close. He leaned in, and this time Hakkai felt his eyes slide closed. It was just as brief as before, but this time it was far less tentative. "I'm pretty sure this makes me an asshole." the playboy finished. Hakkai shook his head.

" Not at all." he lowered his head, and returned the favor as he gently laid the playboy back on the bed, smoothing the hair from his forehead. He wondered, as he watched Yohji drift off to sleep, if it made _himself_ an asshole however, for taking advantage of the situation. The healer fell asleep wondering exactly what the situation _was_.

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Gah! I can't believe I did that!! Don't know if the Yohji/Hakkai thing is going much farther than that, but we'll see.

Alrighty! Signing off!


	19. Anthying Goes in, Anything Goes Out

The moment the door closed, Aya pounced. Ken, startled into falling forward, made an undignified noise between a squawk and a yelp before the sound became muffled by the bed linens. The swordsman eyed his handiwork with satisfaction, nodding to himself at the upraised rear and spread legs. He moved forward; a great hunting cat, and bent over his prostrate lover, wrapping an arm around the lean waist and gently rolling his hips against the brunet's rear. Ken came spluttering out of his stupor and shot Aya a look over his shoulder, indignant and flushed and only encouraging the red head's libido further.

"_Ran_!" the former soccer player cried out angrily, trying to turn himself about. Aya's grip was like iron, however, and he held fast. "Godammit Ran!! _Let me up!!_" Ken roared. Aya reached down and clamped a hand over the brunet's big mouth, and leaned down to hiss a warning into his ear.

"If you don't close that hot little mouth of yours, I'll find something to put in it." he growled. Unbidden, a shiver crept down the ex-soccer player's spine. He tried another glare, this one weaker.

"How can you possibly be that _hard_ at a time like this!?" Ken hissed back through the redhead's fingers. Aya smirked and rocked against the brunet's rear again, causing a shudder to flow along both their bodies this time.

"It's been a _hard_ couple days, you idiot. I've been building nervous tension over Kritiker's potential discovery of our _situation_. Not to mention that it's been more than a pair of days since last I've seen you…." the swordsman murmured softly, sliding one pale hand beneath Ken's shirt and finding it's way to a nipple. Ken gave a small, soft noise at this, and Aya felt fire burn through his blood at the sound.

"And how the hell do you rationalize this behavior now that Manx is downstairs, and Yohji's been taken? And would you like to bleed to death while we're screwing each other's brains out?" the brunet growled, the sound coming out far breathier than he intended and having the opposite effect on his lover's libido. Aya gave a little growl and ground harder, his other hand sliding down to grip Ken's hip before questing fingers skimmed along to the fastening of his jeans.

"I'm not going to rationalize anything." The swordsman crooned, deftly unfastening the button and slipping pale fingers just inside. "They aren't going anywhere, and Omi is more than capable of giving Manx the details she needs. Ken shivered at his touch, but the tenseness of his posture told Ran he was still resistant.

"Ran, we can't do this now…we have to be responsible." the brunet persisted quietly. Aya snorted.

"That word sounds awkward coming from your mouth." he teased. "I'm surprised you even know what it means." Pale fingers slid inside Ken's boxers as the red head spoke, and Ken couldn't help the moan they stirred this time.

"Obviously I know the definition better than you do. Imagine Yohji's shock when he finds out…" the brunet tried to tease. Aya, getting annoyed now, pulled his trump card, deciding that he didn't want to spare the effort and time it would take to sweet talk his lover into submission. Leaning over, he bit down on the shell of Ken's ear and growled a lewd demand, punctuated by a snap of his hips. Ken made a soft sound of desperation and thrust back against the swordsman unconsciously.

"That's playing dirty." he complained, but his body language had turned far more pliant. With a grin, Aya leaned down and reinstated the demand, his language just a little bit dirty and a whole lot dominant. The response was almost instantaneous, and Aya couldn't help the triumphant smirk that crossed over his features as Ken moaned desperately and ground his rear against the red head's front for all he was worth.

Hmm. Ken's dirty talk fetish was not something the swordsman liked to use often, lest it get old, but as his lover turned around and ripped his shirt over his head, falling back spread against the lush crimson comforter, Aya decided it had been worth the sacrifice, and lunged forward.

Sanzo, on his part, was rethinking his ignoble sacrifice of peace and quiet. On the other bed across the room, Goku bounced and chattered with an almost alarming likeness to an ape, and the preist was fast reaching the end of his rope. Without Gojyo there to argue with the chimp, Goku's energy had no outlet. Damn that stupid kappa to hell anyways. The blond's demeanor sobered almost immediately, however, and the image of Yohji, shattered, once again burned itself into his mind, the haunting message the playboy had carried still ringing eerily in Sanzo's heart.

The gods had done many things to irritate Sanzo, most specifically that recently deceased asshole of a war-god Homura, but they hadn't done anything that specifically cruel to anyone in the party. And they didn't count anyways, as they didn't actually _employ_ anyone in the priest's little rag-tag group. To be submitted to something like that…by one's employer, no less…. The kind of business Weiss was in held that perhaps after one's teammates, one's employer needed to be trusted implicitly on some level out of sheer necessity. How could Weiss go to work each night knowing it could be their last job? Thanks to none other than the company who'd sent them?.

Which begged the next topic of thought and round of disturbing memories; the scene Ken had made in the basement about Kritiker killing Weiss for a suspected liability hadn't left the monk's mind. Weiss had clearly expected torture, and then death as a result of this game. Kritiker had halfway made good on the promise with Yohji. The consequences on this little swap for them had a much higher chance to be fatal with the added element the Sanzo-ikkou didn't have to worry about. Aside from laughing her haggy ass off, the miserable bitch on cloud 9 up there was, after all, the _merciful_ Goddess. Aside from which Sanzo's team was _not_ a liability to her in any sort of way, since their reputation had pretty much preceded them in one way or another across the country. It wasn't like Kannon was trying to keep anything about this whole affair under wraps. Secrecy, for the Sanzo-ikkou, was not an option, no matter how much Sanzo wished it was. It was something that he had never previously considered as taken for granted. The opposite in fact. Apparently, Weiss could use the same sort of freedom.

"Naa… Sanzo…what do you think will happen if Ken winds up like Yohji?" Goku's soft voice tore through the monk's thought pattern, forcing him to consider something far more immediate. The idea of Goku at anyone's mercy in such a way made his blood freeze. Hell, the idea of Ken in a situation like that made his blood freeze. The brunet was hot-blooded, and likely to say something that would likely get himself idiotically tortured to death. Sanzo growled to himself and rose up, pacing the room.

"I don't like this." he spat. "We need to talk to Yohji. We need to figure out what's going on since obviously our counter parts aren't doing a very good job of it." he muttered. Goku rocked back on his rear thoughtfully, mouth pursed in thought.

"Nah. Yohji's a pretty bright guy. I think that we'd be just as stupid if the Gods came down an' suddenly started doin' stuff to us like that. Like Yohji." he replied. Sanzo paused in his pacing, closing his mind to such a thought. After a tense moment, he unlocked his jaw and ground out "Regardless as to who's stupid when, we need to think about this. We don't know anything about this Kritiker."

"Sure we do." Goku's response was easy. Sanzo turned on him, surprise warring with annoyance on his features. This was not Goku being brashly arrogant. This was Goku speaking from common sense. The monkey knew _something_.

"What?" the blond barked out. Goku frowned at him.

"Jeez. Calm down." he grunted. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he rested his chin on them and played idly with his toes. Sanzo discreetly took a big breath through his nose for patience.

"Well, we know that they set Ken up, so he'd _have_ to join them. So –"

"What do you mean _they_?! I thought someone named Kase did." the monk bit out. Goku frowned at him, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Yeah, he did part of it. But Kritiker put that watchma-callit guy in charge. The construction company dude. They gave him a tip. About all the money…." Goku trailed off here, silenced by Sanzo's look of utter shock. The monk was staring at him as if he'd switched to speaking Latin. Or something. "What?" the young man asked hesitantly, ducking his head.

"Kritiker did _what_?" Sanzo's voice was very slow. The way he spoke when he was not only trying to understand, but also to remember, really well, for later. Goku squirmed uncomfortably.

"I thought you knew. You know, 'cause of Aya." he began hesitantly. Sanzo shook his head.

"Aya knows nothing about it. Does Ken?" the monk murmured. Goku shook his head.

"I don't….think so. Ken's memories are pretty mixed up about it. Not surprisin'." he replied thoughtfully. Sanzo leaned forward.

"Then where the hell did _you_ get that information?" he asked very carefully. Goku looked more uncomfortable, if that was possible, and went back to staring at his toes and wiggling them against his fingers in agitation.

"I don't…I don't know. _Somewhere_ I guess. It was like I knew all about Ken's life. Even the stuff that Ken didn't know about. I thought everybody else did too." he said slowly. Sanzo shook his head.

"I know only what Aya remembers. That's it." he replied. Goku shrugged hesitantly, as if in apology. Sanzo put a hand to the bridge of his nose and breathed a huge sigh.

"Alright. Let's not cross that bridge just yet, ok? I need Hakkai here for that. Fuck, my head hurts. What else do you know?" Sanzo's question was sharp with annoyance and some other emotion Goku couldn't quite name.

"Umm…nothing really. Just that Kritiker set up the whole thing. So they could get Ken on their assassin squad thing. They used him later to kill the only other two people who knew what they did; you know, Kase and that other guy. Kouga. But that guy – what's his name? Persia doesn't know about it either." Sanzo stared at the brunet in front of him, trying to retrieve his jaw somewhere from the vicinity of the floor. He'd known what Aya had known about Ken's life, and since they were lovers, Sanzo had thought he'd had most of the story. Apparently not. And apparently not many others knew. He pulled his jaw shut with an audible snap and stared some more. At length, he turned away, and resumed his pacing.

"I don't like this." he began. Goku nodded darkly. "It sounds like somebody wants to start a fight." he replied. Sanzo turned to reprimand him for thinking like a stupid primate when the full weight of Goku's words hit him. Oh _shit_. Of _course_. A coup. Someone was staging a coup. The monk gripped the back of the chair in front of him, hard. He turned at Goku's inquisitive noise.

"Goku. Let's go talk to Yohji about Kritiker. We need to know _everything_." he growled. Goku nodded, and together they rose and left the room, the door cutting out the light behind them and plunging the room into darkness.

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Yohji was very glad when the room stopped spinning every time he tried to open his eyes. Hakkai's face was very nice to look at when it wasn't running orbits around the edges of the playboy's vision and then multiplying itself every so often.

Now, his face stayed in the same place, and Yohji liked the affectionate concern on it very much. Even if it made him feel guilty. The healer was frowning over the slope of his nose, reading some thick tome of knowledge that Yohji most likely couldn't comprehend. He smiled softly at the sight and reached a bandaged, battered hand forward shakily.

"Gonna get a worry wrinkle. Right between the eyes." he chuckled hoarsely, startling the brunet. Hakkai snapped the book shut loudly, turning all his attention on the lanky playboy lying in bed.

"Yohji!" there was affection and relief and concern wrapped up in the tone and Yohji tried studiously to ignore the way it made him feel. "You're awake!"

"If that's what they're calling it these days, I suppose that's the state I'm in." the lanky blond replied jovially. He still hurt too much to chuckle. He was able to smile in amusement, however, as the healer leaned forward and began fussing and pulling carefully at bandages. The playboy was willing to bet a large part of his hefty salary that Hakkai had been waiting to do the like for many hours, but his sense of propriety had prevented him. And speaking of propriety, the brunet allowed one corner of his mouth to curve up wickedly.

"If you're looking to start something sweetheart, you might want to try checking-out the equipment I've got under the covers." he remarked, letting his eyebrows waggle in a humorous, exaggerated gesture. Hakkai was proud of the way he kept his initial start inside, where no one else could see it. He tugged a little sharply at a dressing and Yohji winced. Immediately, the healer pulled back, apologetic. Yohji stopped him.

"Don't." he said slowly. They locked gazes, panting, and were immediately unable to look away. Finally, after a moment, Hakkai sighed, pulling back.

"Yohji, we shouldn't be doing this right now." the healer began. Yohji frowned.

"Doing what? Why? Are you upset that I'm a guy and I'm into you? If you are, you should tell me, and I'll lay off. I can take a hint." the playboy's tone held a hint of cynicism in it and Hakkai felt his head snap up, of it's own accord.

"No Yohji. You're injured. To do anything now would be to risk harming you farther. And in any case, I can't imagine it would feel very good. " Hakkai hoped his answer would tell Yohji what he was unable to say. The brunet was uncomfortable to say the least, to be having _those_ feelings again; about someone other than Kanan, no less.

"No. It'll feel better than anything I'm feeling right now, I can promise you that." the lanky man responded darkly. Hakkai felt a wave of hopelessness wash over him. How could he even _think_ of Yohji in this way? Whatever the battered brunet _thought_ he was up for, Hakkai knew better. And in the long run, it was stupid, _stupid_ to get involved with a man who could disappear from his life forever at any moment. To say nothing of the fact that Yohji was, indeed, a man. Hakkai had admired other men, but had never felt quite this way about them, and although he had no issues with homosexuality, he wasn't quite certain that homosexuality with someone who was technically a phantom in this plane of existence was quite fair for either of them.

A knock at the door prevented either of them from getting much further. Without waiting for a reply, Sanzo flung it open, gaze full of purpose and menace.

"It's time we had a little chat." the priest growled. Normally, this would not have phased Hakkai, but Goku, standing behind his keeper, looked grim. Why did the healer have a feeling he was about to discover something that was better left unknown?

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Manx was tired, but she knew sleep was not coming for a long while. Gingerly, she rubbed at her temples, trying to sort all of the information she had just gleaned into it's proper places. Without missing a beat, she readied herself to relay her own shocking bit of information, now that Aya and Ken had finally deigned to join the rest of their little group. Fujimiya had simply glared. Ken, at least, had looked contrite. Manx didn't have the heart to reprimand anyone tonight, however. Taking a discreet, deep breath, she looked each person at the table in the eyes as she spoke.

"It appears a faction of Kritiker has decided to take operating procedures into it's own hands. At 5 am this morning, Persia and I learned that they had taken one of our own operatives captive, from the assassination unit _Weiss_. Until 3 pm this afternoon, we were unable to discern where he was being held and indeed, which operative had been chosen; nor for what purpose. Once the location was determined, we immediately intervened, shutting down the entire lab and removing Balinese from the premises, to be taken here, to Villa Weiss, for care and recovery. Which is exactly where he was until he _disappeared into thin air._" the last words were snarled with emphasis towards Gojyo, who flinched guiltily, despite the fact that really, he wasn't at fault at all. Brushing the accusation aside, Manx leaned forward.

"Gentleman. It appears we have a problem on our hands."

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Blah. Sorry so long in coming. Worn out. Traveling. Stuff. Life. Thanks, as always for your reviews and enjoyment of the fic! Alas, I don't think Edo will be updated until I've revamped it. It needs work. And consistency. And I am too tired to think about it right now. Night folks!


	20. I'm Sorry, Can You Run That By Me Again?

**--------------------------------------------------------**

**Trading Spaces Chapter 20**

**I'm sorry, could you run that one by me again?**

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Sanzo decided he grudgingly admired the way Yohji stared at him resolutely, a man willing to answer any questions because he had reached the breaking point. There was nothing left for Yohji to try to turn aside. With the exception as to whatever had been going on between Hakkai and the lanky playboy before he had barged into the room. Both men had been close, and had started guiltily when he had come in. (This of course had nothing to do with the fact that it was, indeed, after ten pm, and he had _not_ bothered to knock…).

Stepping into the room fully, Goku closed the door behind them as they entered. Sanzo moved straight to the end of the bed, and took a deep inhalation off his cigarette. Yohji shot him a longing look, but before Sanzo could be moved to share nicotine, Hakkai firmly shook his head.  
"No cigarettes. Sanzo, you shouldn't even be smoking that in here." Sanzo 'tched', ignoring him, and leaned on the edge of the bed.

"I want to know everything about Weiss. How they work, what you know, who hires you, who communicates with you, how you get paid….everything." he muttered. Yohji's face hardened.

"You gonna tie me down to a chair too? What the Hell is it lately with everyone asking me stupid questions? I didn't tell the bastards who put me in this bed, why the Hell should I tell you?" he snapped back. Sanzo raised an eyebrow, taking the remark in stride. Yohji had, after all, just spent gods knew how long bound and tortured by his supposed employers, for information he felt was trivial. Beside him, Hakkai waited patiently, his face a mask of calm.

"Sorry to disappoint, but nothing so dramatic." Sanzo replied coolly. "Just thought you might want to know a few things about your so-called employer." Yohji stiffened.

"What the hell is that tone supposed to mean!?", he growled. Sanzo's other eyebrow joined his first, and Goku fidgeted anxiously behind him at Yohji's contrary behavior. Sanzo willed the monkey still.

"You're acting awfully defensive over a bunch of guys whose most recent rewarding of your loyalty included just about beating you to death." the priest continued calmly. Yohji opened his mouth for a moment, before slamming it shut so hard his teeth clacked. He winced, but remained silent. Sanzo stood back, inhaling deeply on his cigarette once more, ignoring the way it burnt close to his tobacco-stained fingers.

"If you're ready to talk, you might want to rethink your stance on those oh-so-great employers of yours. Normally I couldn't give two shits in a bag about other people's problems, but as it happens, this directly affects me and the idiots I got sent on this gods-forsaken little mission with."

Neither Hakkai nor Goku acknowledge the slight, although Yohji's eyes seemed to have that same burning quality in them that the Healer had seen when there had been that minor altercation with Ken. Angrily, Yohji seemed to unlock his jaw, his gaze boring into Sanzo's. To his credit, however, he chose his words carefully.

"You know about Weiss. You know what we are. You know who we kill, and why. You _know_ how we get our missions. What the hell else do you want!? You think I know anymore than that?" the brunet growled. Sanzo 'tched', crossing his arms.

"That's pretty sad." he muttered. Hakkai spoke, suddenly and quietly, from Yohji's side.

"And how much, Sanzo, do you know about our mission West? Why did the Gods choose you, or Goku, Gojyo, or myself? How do you know that we're all really strong enough to resist the minus wave for as long as you need us to? Because the San-butsu-shin told you? How can you be certain no one is lying, or that we're doing what's best? How many times have asked ourselves that on this mission? Before you cast stones, remember what kind of house it is you're living in." the Healer remarked.

The priest cast an irritated glare over Hakkai's tense form before striding casually to the window, and making a production of slamming the shutters open to toss his cigarette out into the night. He closed them just as angrily.

"Despite any _misgivings_ I have about this mission, and there are _many_, we're working with heaven. Gods. Kirtiker is run by men. Men, might I add, who're lying about their morals."

A sudden outburst of harsh, heavy laughter filled the air, edged with the slightest bit of hysteria.

"That's cute." Yohji guffawed, as three sets of shocked eyes focused on him. " You've _just_ figured that out!? Every one of us in Weiss has known it from the day we were approached. Killers with morals!?" Yohji laughed again, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Just as suddenly, the laughter stopped, and Yohji fixed a dead serious stare on Sanzo. "That's how it all stays up you know. We all walk around and shake hands, bow to each other, pretend that we're doing something for the greater good. Eradicating sin with sin. But still…you know they say a double negative cancels itself out. I think that maybe that's what we're all hoping will happen. Some day the sun will rise over all of our corpses, and things will start fresh. Of course that's also a lie, but one we all want to believe. We _have_ to. We'd drop fully into insanity otherwise." the lanky brunet murmured, his gaze empty.

"_Yohji_…" Hakkai began, alarmed by the man's odd and morbid mood. Goku looked sad, but partly angry, as if he couldn't believe Yohji would fall for the crap coming out of his own mouth. Hakkai couldn't help but wonder if the youth could fully appreciate the differences between Weiss and the Sanzo-ikkou. Sanzo leaned back assesingly.

"Very well. You have faith in these people because you feel there isn't a choice in the matter. Killers or nothing. Interesting that though you seem to harbor all this angst about it you're still willingly alive."

"_Sanzo_!" Hakkai's scandalized cry was now directed at his leader. Yohji shook his head however, and smirked.

"Too true." he acknowledged. "Funny thing about humans…we're all a bunch of fucking masochists. We pretend we have pride, standards, that we'd _never_ stoop to certain levels…but when the time comes to make the choice, how many of us are ever really prepared to say no? I wonder what it is that has us all struggling to survive, at any cost. Hope is perhaps the darkest of all emotions."

Hakkai's gaze flickered rapidly back and forth between the two of them now. Sanzo's gaze remained the same; bored, impassive bordering on annoyed. Goku, stood slightly behind him, looked deeply troubled at the content of the conversation, and Hakkai finally decided that more than anything he wanted to cover the boy's ears, push him from the room, _anything_ than having him listen to this broken-down conversation. But the reason the youth's gaze is so desolate has much to do with the world-weariness behind it in those golden eyes. It is so easy to forget that Goku is really over 500, not simply 18, and that he has already had his share of disillusionment on this journey of theirs. The world, the Healer thought, was just not fair.

His gaze broke away and floundered over to Yohji, who was sneering in bitter derision at Sanzo, a challenge plain in his eyes, though of what sort, Hakkai could hardly imagine. The priest snorted, breaking the tension.

"Maybe it's time you start thinking about survival and how you'd best be about it." he began. "I'd think long and hard about your recent little walk through paradise. And about something else I don't think any of you may realize, though at this rate the thought should've crossed your mind." Much to Yohji and Hakkai's surprise, the priest turned to Goku, and the younger brunet fidgeted anxiously as all eyes in the room fixed on him. But he knew what he needed to say. His eyes found Yohji's and the playboy's gaze softened immediately.

"It's about Ken." Goku began earnestly. Yohji stiffened, the recent fear that his comrades were being made to suffer as he had resurfacing, but he waited until Goku was finished with what he needed to say. " Kritiker set him up. With that whole soccer thing. With the Kase guy." Yohji frowned. Set Ken up? Well yes, he'd figured that the whole Kase mission had been a set-up on Kritiker's part. Both to test Ken's loyalty perhaps, and also to give him a chance at revenge. A chance to solve the puzzle behind the tragic end to what could have been a very happy, fulfilling life.

"They hired the construction guy, and then tipped him off." Goku carried on, oblivious, and that got Yohji's attention back to where it needed to be. "They told him about the betting thing. And the drug. You know, the one that made Ken all weird, so he couldn't play right." Goku began feeling slightly stupid at this point. This had come out so much better between himself and Sanzo. But Yohji seemed to understand him perfectly clearly. The lanky brunet leaned forward, both hands palm down on the comforter in front of him. His gaze that of man on the edge of being both highly disturbed and righteously angry.

"So…you're telling me that _Kritiker_ set-up Ken's thrown soccer match?" Yohji's voice was low, and even. Beside him, Hakkai looked equally disturbed. Goku nodded, determined. The playboy's gaze darkened considerably.

"_Why_?" he murmured. Sanzo snorted at this, drawing the uncomfortable attention away from Goku and onto himself.

"Why _not_?" the priest muttered. "Think about it. What have they got to lose? Ken is agile, isn't he? He's an orphan, so he has no blood ties. No one is going to stick-up for him or vouch for his character really. So he's in top physical shape, won't really be missed once the scandal is over, won't have anywhere to go, and best of all, he'll still posess some semblance of morals, so he can be easily controlled and manipulated. I'm sure, for an organization like Kritiker, top assasins such as those found in Weiss, with such brilliant back-grounds thrown together, aren't exactly growing on trees. Think about it; if you want to sell apples, you have to make them look appealing. If you want to get away with murder, you have to make it appear as if it's a necessary thing. Nobody does anything these days without good reason." Sanzo didn't seem to be bothered by everyone staring at him now. Yohji's gaze found the comforter in front of him after a moment however, and he lifted a hand to slap his palm angrily against it. The sound seemed to startle Hakkau and Goku both from their own realms of shock.

"If that's true then we're a bunch of frigging idiots. And that doesn't even begin to describe the situation" the playboy began, his voice a low growl. Sanzo's gaze softened slightly.

"You aren't any stupider than anyone else in this world or others. I see it all the time." the monk replied dryly. Yohji's gaze snapped up to meet his, eyes flashing.

"I can't joke about this yet, Sanzo. Despite how ironically humorous it probably is to any bystanders, I can't. I mean, I know we've all been lying to ourselves…I just…I guess I didn't realize how sharp the knife that we've been dancing on really was…" Sanzo shook his head.

"You're misunderstanding me. Humanity, Yokai, _whatever_ we call ourselves…we're all idiots. That's all there is to it. You can't help that anymore than anyone can. We're all blinded by attachment." although he was trying to be comforting in his own, gruff way, Sanzo could not help the slight feeling of hypocrisy that stole over him when he used the word _attatchment_, and he suddenly became hyper-aware of the brunet standing at his elbow, the thought of Goku bound to a chair while a bunch of assholes….the monk slammed his mind shut against the vision before it could cause any serious mental damage. He'd already suffered enough of that as it was with all the idiocy he endured every day. Across from him, Yohji snorted, but refrained from commenting further.

"So then, Sanzo-_sama_, do you have any great and wonderful wisdom to bestow upon us and reveal how our erroneous ways might be turned back?" the lanky brunet asked with an arrogant smirk. Sanzo felt the corners of his mouth turn downwards.

"Let's start by hearing about Kritiker. I'll see what other colossal mistakes you've all been blundering around." the priest growled. Hakkai broke into one of his exasperated, polite smiles.

"_Really_ Sanzo…" he admonished.

"I can hardly _wait_." Yohji muttered, heaving a great sigh Sanzo deigned to ignore. Beside him, Goku's stomach rumbled.

"I'm hungry!" the youth complained loudly, and Sanzo rolled his eyes heavenward. It was a wonder he ever got _anything_ done…

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Any good mood Aya might have been in after managing to work his lover into hot, sweaty sex had dissolved rapidly. The red-head slammed both of his hands down on the table and leaned forward menacingly.

"Are you telling _me_", he growled in a low voice, "that Kritiker is turning _against_ ust?" Beside him, Ken looked too angry to be uncomfortable at Aya's blatant display of disrespect. Omi looked both betrayed and hopeful, wanting to believe that Manx still had something to add, that the organization that had rescued and raised him was _not_ turning on him. Manx chose Abssynian to focus her icy gaze upon.

"Were you not listening when I mentioned that it was a separate _faction_ of Kritiker?" she murmured threateningly. Aya was undeterred.

"We lay down our _lives_ for you, follow you, for the most part, without question, and you can't even keep tabs on your own goddammned _factions_!?" Aya was whipping himself into a good, strong temper. Manx's glare seemed to snap with unseen electricity as she turned to fully face her angry operative.

"Do you have any idea, Abyssinian, how _large_ Kritiker is? How many countries it exists in? Have you _ever_ stopped to think that the chain of command dosen't _stop_ with Perisa?? One man, running an anti crime ring crime ring for an entire country!? Are you an _idiot_!?" the red barked, curls bouncing in indignation. Undeterred, Aya leaned forward even further. "I am _mudering_ in your name and you can't even manage to figure out where those orders are _coming_ from??" he growled, body tense like a tiger's. Manx narrowed her eyes.

"You _dare_ accuse Persia of –" anything further Manx might have added was cut off by a loud, angry _BANG_!, and all eyes turned to focus on Ken, who lowered the cast-iron frying pan from the thick wooden wall he'd slammed it against, his expression a mix of fear, betrayal, and rage.

"Regardless", he growled " as to who's right and who's wrong, the major issue right now is _fixing_ the problem." At Aya's clearly enraged and frustrated expression, he pressed on hastily "At the very least, I agree with Ran that we're _all_ owed an explanation, but right now, we don't have time to battle one out." here he turned towards Manx. "How many people know about this place?" he ground out coolly. Manx, although still indignant at the accusations flying her way, especially in light of Yohji's disappearing act, managed to keep a cool head.

"Persia, myself, and Weiss. Kritiker has many holdings, but they're called safe-houses for a reason. Each _branch_, so to speak, has it's own private bank account, which it is responsible for funding, and which is locked away from any other branch's access. Essentially, this place _should_ be a well-kept secret." Ken acknowledged Manx's confessed uncertainty with a nod. It could not have been easy, to suddenly be stripped of authority and not really be able to have confidence in the simplest of answers.

"And Persia is…?" the brunet trailed off. Manx frowned thoughtfully.

"Safe." _For how long?_ Her mind added silently. She shut it out ruthlessly. Ken nodded grimly. "Then I guess we can assume we'll be safe here for a small time. I suggest we don't waste it fighting over how Weiss has been fucked-over. Or Kritiker for that matter." The former soccer-player's gaze raked the room, taking in everyone's expressions. There was still animosity in the air, mostly from Ran, and a cloying sense of betrayal from Omi. But Ken's lover was also looking at him with something akin to pride, and Ken felt himself flush slightly. Finally, he cleared his throat, shifting nervously.

"Hey, that's all the brilliance you get outta me tonight. It's someone else's turn." he mumbled self-conciously. Omi chuckled grimly.

"Well done Ken-kun. Manx, since you know more than we do, at this point, what do you suggest?" the youth asked stiffly, turning his gaze back to the woman who'd usually been his sole source of comfort. Manx tried not to flinch beneath the barely held mistrust in the glare. Worse was that she felt, somehow, that she deserved it. Even Abyssinian's anger was well-deserved of the red-head, but she had none of the answers they wanted.

"Right now, our branch of Krtiker has abdicated. Birman and a few others you haven't met are eradicating files. _Crashers_ is also at work trying to help _sever_ the limb so to speak. They are, after all, very good at leaving no trace." here Manx's gaze found Aya's briefly, but the red-head returned it steadily. "Since Weiss has always been a team on offense, right now our best option is to wait, and perhaps strategize a few plans for separate scenarios." _Such as what we will do if the rest of this faction fails._

"My first suggestion of the evening," Aya began, standing straight again "Is to try and figure out the goals of our enemies. We'll get that much farther if we can figure out what they're after." Manx nodded, meeting his violet gaze evenly, finding it hard once more not to flinch at the intensity of accusation in it. Next time, she was sending Persia out himself. Let _him_ deal with a bunch of put-out men.

"Very well. I will tell you all the information I have, and we can start hypothesizing, because that's about as far as we're going to get." she replied. Shrugging, Weiss returned to sit around the table, and Gojyo leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, forgotten until now.

"Sounds to me like that's an easy answer." the halfbreed began. " Nobody makes a move like that unless they're prepared for the consequences. And nobody's prepared for consequences that large unless they've amassed enough power not to be bothered by it. And _nobody_ amasses that kind of power unless they're aiming to use it, most likely to take power away from somebody else." here the playboy interjected a lazy, arrogant grin. "Looks to me like you got a hostile take-over on your hands."

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"Anyone? Hello!?" Kougaiji growled in frustration. He received no reply. Yaone, as she had been doing for the past hour, continues to stare in utter fascination at her reflection in the mirror. Though the appearance has not changed, and Kougaiji himself would have long ago grown bored with it, the young woman's fascination seems boundless.

"I'm a _man_." she breathes, her tone a mixture of terror and awe, as she reaches a hand tentatively to skim smooth yet masculine fingers along a freshly shaven, equally soft jaw. Brad Crawford is, after all, a bit of a pampered aristocrat. Despite his murderous schedule, he clearly has found time to take care of himself. Kougaiji is still trying to get past Yaone's voice sounding so…deep and commanding…it makes him uneasy.

Beside her, Lirin stares at her own reflection as well, although her expression is etched with a misery borne of self-consciousness and a lack of understanding. This is par for the course, considering she's a teenage girl and was insecure enough about her body to begin with. Now, however, she has her arms crossed tightly over where her breasts _should_ be, and is frowning at her thin, stick-like body. Lririn is _not_ amused at being a boy in the slightest. The persona she wears seems conducive to frowning anyways, so Kougaiji chalks part of her stormy mood up to that.

And Dokugaku…well, the man has been amusing himself the past hour by alternately sticking his hands under hot water, pinching, pulling, and otherwise biting at his scarred skin, his face a mixture of shock, disturbed interest, and downright curiosity. Apparently, he can't feel anything. A small voice in the back of Kougaiji's mind informs him that this means he can knock his friend out, without the headache side-effect, and maybe relieve some of his tension. He refrains however. Disgusted with the lack of response, he turns back to the computer at the well-kept desk in front of him.

Truthfully, he has never used a computer before, but he's determined not to let that stop him. He doesn't know where he or his comrades are, what, if anything, they're supposed to be doing, and worse yet, what the others that have stolen their skin might be up to. Kougaiji has a feeling, as he tries to find any information he can, that it can't be good, whatever it is…And he's just as sure, it's definitely _something_.

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_Gasp!_ It is I, Elfgoddess, with another update!! And you probably thought I was dead. I'm still here! Weddings and travel and raises, oh my! But I'm totally still here and totally haven't forgotten. The going is slow, however, since my own original fiction is taking precedence. Sorry guys, c'est la vie! There's only room in my brain for so much at once, and I've got to write about what's coming out when it's there, I can't force anything.

In any case, hope you all enjoyed this chapter! There'll likely be some lemon squares coming up soon, I'm just trying to figure out how, and between whom. Most likely, there'll be a slightly (ok mostly) awkward situation with Ran and Ken…because Sanzo'll be involved as a strange type of voyeur….

Ja na…..


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